


Like Kisses on the Necks of Best Friends

by 1010nabulation, herongale



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, Post SGRUB, Tentabulges, Xeno, Xenophilia, also misogynistic slurs, depiction is not endorsement, his shitty vulgar gross language reflects this at times, karkat is a little shit, problematic ableist slurs, rp fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-11 17:45:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 158,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1010nabulation/pseuds/1010nabulation, https://archiveofourown.org/users/herongale/pseuds/herongale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you just have to write the most self-indulgent schmoopy first time falling in love bee ess, and post it with absolutely no shame whatsoever.  This is clearly a RP based story, and involves Karkat coming to visit a self-exiled idiot sea troll (spoiler: his name is Eridan!) in his nice little post-SGRUB lighthouse in the middle of some conveniently South Pacific-like seas, and emotions and feelings happen, and eventually some Pictionary and sailing, and of course there will be make outs and all the good shit eventually, since that's just how we roll.  </p><p>(chapters 11 AND 12 updated: SERIOUS SEXY TIMES AND THEN SERIOUS FEELS.  YOU KNOW.  THE USUAL.)</p><p>(yes that is in fact TWO chapters.  Posted at ONCE!  Sorry 'bout the delay you guys hope this makes up for some of that)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi... so Ten and I have been doing this RP for a couple months now, and it's at some obscene word count of Over 9000 words (just kidding, it's over 100,000 words actually), and we've been really enjoying how cute it is (if we do say so ourselves), and so decided fuck it, we are so going to post this shit online. It'll make it easier for us to re-read this to our happy satisfaction (primary reason) but also, I honestly think it's good enough to be enjoyed by anyone interested in the Erikar dynamic, so there's that as well. 
> 
> If anyone is interested in keeping track, I (herongale) am fronting for Karkat here, and Ten is covering All of The Eridan POVs. 
> 
> In terms of the setting, all you really need to know is that this is a post-SGRUB world that is only populated by whoever played in the game, plus all those various game carapaces and salamander guys and whoever that Jade managed to save with her amazing spacey powers. Think the Digital World (from Digimon) meets Narnia I guess? As for where everyone besides Eridan and Karkat is, or what (and who) they are doing, that gets addressed eventually: so read and find out, I guess!
> 
> The title is, of course, ripped directly from some Fall Out Boy lyrics. I expect that comes as a surprise to exactly no one, but still... credit where credit's due, you know?

Were someone who is not you to look up the word "inauspicious" in the dictionary, they'd probably be surprised to find that the tertiary definition here on New Alter-Earth refers directly to one notorious troll of legend, and is given as follows: "doleful sentiment of woe and ill omens that is the primary characteristic of one KARKAT VANTAS' entire fucked up, accursed life."

You however, being the notorious and legendary Karkat Vantas in question, possess no such notion of surprise. 

In part, this is because you personally supervised the supplementary materials inserted into the new editions of this new planet's primary reference texts, adapted from captchalogued versions of the same that were originally written on your old homeworld, Alternia. But in larger and more important part, this is because it is a sentiment that you have wholeheartedly agreed with and believed in for your entire life, and now, as you traverse a small and barely noteworthy corner of New Alter-Earth's vast oceans, you feel like you couldn't agree more. Of course, you could try, but all that would probably accomplish would be for agreement to be fucking oozing out of each one of your various orifices, your own troll body unable to hold so much fucking agreement all at once. 

Today, your agreement with yourself on the matter of your own inauspiciously cursed life is at its absolute zenith, because today is the day that you've finally taken it upon yourself to visit that motherfucking douchetool, Eridan Ampora. It is a personal obligation you've avoided for far too long. Feferi loaned you her boat.

Speaking of auspices and their various auguries, you can't help but make note of the low-lying grey clouds, which have been ominously hanging over you for this entire ocean jaunt. Feferi called them monsoon clouds and said they were nothing to worry about, since according to her it's the tail end of the monsoon season and those clouds are the tail end of a storm. In terms of setting a mood, they're kind of perfect, since they reflect the grouchy, vaguely swindled feeling you've been experiencing ever since Terezi gave you the final push, setting you off on this long-delayed quest smack dab in the middle of fuckass nowhere, far, far from the mayoral seat of fuckstick junction, which is of course where you and most of the game survivors live.

Your irritability is on a low simmer at the moment, however, since land is in sight. 

AMPORA, you signal with your dot-flash code device. TODAY IS YOUR MOTHERFUCKING LUCKY DAY. TODAY YOU GET A VISITOR, FOR A CHANGE.

There. That was polite enough, you think to yourself. Considering your complicated but basically non-caliginously disapproving feelings towards this hopelessly hopeless loser, that was fucking perfect courtesy, in fact. An example to all.

 

Eridan is out on the upper catwalk of his lighthouse when the flashes of light catch his eye. He rolls his eyes and sneers a bit in disgust before really paying the flashes mind--if someone is signaling him, it is usually because they've been stupid enough to hit the reefs or rocks even though his lighthouse is there to help them navigate away from them. And he is so not in the mood to bail any stupid carapace “sailors” or salamander “explorers” out today.

"... --fucking lucky day," Eridan murmurs to himself as he reads the light-message, squinting at the boat from which it was being sent. "Today you get a vvisitor for a change." 

Wait, what? A visitor? No one ever visited him out here! Eridan stands up straighter, leaning over the railing to get a closer look at that boat and the person in it signaling to him. He pulls his white science wand out and sets to sending a message back by soft flashes of light from its tip: 'kar is that you' and then moments later 'the dock is to your left but dont go straight for it that wwould be upright suicidal... ill signal and direct you around the reefs'.

 

It figures that Ampora picked an island that is not only barely habitable, it is also surrounded by treacherous barrier reefs. Feferi warned you, however, about Ampora's fondness for such things, and even though she hasn't yet come to see him herself, she knows the coordinates by heart and has been able to provide you with some sea gyrometer or sonographic depthometer thingie as well as other navigational assistance devices (designed and built by Sollux) which were not only supposed to get you here, but which were also to help you find the safest path through shallow waters in order to make it to Ampora's reefy lighthouse hive. 

But, well. If Eridan is feeling helpful, well, he _should_. He kind of owes it to you, anyway, for the glorious privilege of your company. 

Not that you have any illusions about how glorious your company actually ought to be perceived, by him or by anyone. That said, it seems like all of your friends like to spend time with you, and so you make a point to see all of them as often as you can. You've been busy being important and a big deal, in this vast and difficult new world. Coming out here is not at all easy, so it really is a privilege for him to have any visitors at all. Honestly, that should really be all there is to say on the matter. 

But it isn't. It's not like you feel guilty or anything, though. Why should you? _You_ weren't the one who KO'ed Sollux, or who killed Feferi, or who (temporarily) killed Kanaya, or who shot up the goddamn matriorb. But still, everyone else is pestering and/or trolling Eridan on Pesterchum or Trollian these days, at least occasionally. Hell, John just spoke to him last week (about nothing important, you both guess and can practically guarantee), and you're pretty sure that Feferi is talking to him almost every damn night, much to Sollux's strangely nonchalant disbelief. You even have it from Kanaya herself that even she has been speaking to him occasionally, although from what she tells you her exchanges with him are terse and formal, and she still harbors quite a bit of resentment towards him, despite claiming that he owes her nothing and that ever since she killed him, they're "square." 

You've been the only holdout, actually, because of important principles you do not care to articulate at the moment. 

It takes you some unspeakable shenanigans to get the boat into dock, even with Eridan's help, and when you do Ampora is already there on the dock and seems to be getting out ropes and stuff, as if Feferi had been such a moron that she forgot to provide them for you herself. Oh well, what the fuck ever. It's help, so you'll take it. 

Getting everything settled is something that happens in a kind of workmanlike silence. It's even almost a companionable silence, or it would be if it hadn't been so long since you'd seen him. But once you've got the boat secured properly on your end, there's no more stalling and you find that you feel suddenly pretty damn awkward. You never even told him you were coming, after all. He probably wants to know why you're here, and considering you haven't spoken to him for over half a sweep, you don't really have any good specific reason for him that would answer both "why" and "why now." 

"Hey," you say, looking up at him from where you're standing, still in the boat. He's still messing with ropes, and so says a distracted hello back, and that just makes you feel even more awkward. Maybe you're not even welcome? Wouldn't that just be the be-all fuck-all? "So... Feferi has been pestering me to visit you, and I had nothing better to do, so..."

Wow. How fucking lame. _So_ fucking lame. You slap your forehead a little, and tighten your jaw, since even you cannot believe how lamesauce of a greeting that was. But you can't rewind the damn movie reel, and anyway who cares if you come off a little like a wretched annoying cool douche like Dave... letting yourself become completely overcome with shame right off the fucking bat isn't going to be conducive to anything good. Might as well barrel ahead, carrying on as you began. "Anyway, s'up?" And then, before you can stop yourself, you add "bro?", cringing mid-bro.

God, would Terezi be laughing at you right now.

 

Eridan's shoulders tighten at Karkat's mention of Feferi, obligation, and having nothing better to do, but at least it happens while he's finishing up tying the boat to the dock so he can pass it off as just the strain on his muscles. He's not going to make a scene, not the first second Kar contacts him in who knows how fuckin long. That was what pushed Fef away before, all his emotional theatrics, and Eridan's trying, really trying, to keep a handle on all that this time around. Not for Fef specifically anymore, not even though she's all for trying to be moirails with him again... that's a whole other can of worms he's not ready to deal with just yet.

It was foolish of him to get his hopes up even for a second that Karkat wanted to be here, let alone wanted to try for friendship again. After all, Karkat hadn't answered any of Eridan's messages over Trollian since they'd gotten this new world. Not one. And okay, maybe a few of those messages had gotten a little emotionally messy, but that was only because Kar had been a real friend, before... everything... and Eridan wanted the chance to make amends. He wanted his friend back. Nevermind about more; Eridan's not even going to think about it, not when he's still kinda worried Karkat might hate him. Platonically. He’s past throwing himself at everyone ever. Much, anyway...

And now Kar is standing right there in front of him, and he has his chance to try to make things right. And Eridan can't think of what to say.

"Sup bro?," he echoes, an eyebrow raised. "Havve you been talkin to Davve a lot or somethin? Sounds like a Davve thing to say."

Eridan kind of hopes Kar'll take that as a rhetorical question and not answer. It kind of hurts to think Karkat's been talking more--a lot more, probably--to the humans than to Eridan himself. Fuck, it's his own fuckin fault though, and he knows it. He doesn’t have to wonder why Karkat wouldn’t want to even talk to him.

"Wwhat's up with me... I'vve been doin a lot, keepin busy," Eridan says, even if it's only sort of true. "Keepin the lighthouse going, savvin the fuckin idiots that get stuck in the reefs, fishin.... " That doesn't sounds like a whole lot once it's all said. Eridan plays with the rings on his fingers, scowling at himself. "I'm pretty important out here, Kar." He crosses his arms over his chest; it makes him feel more like his words have more weight.

"Howw about you? I havven't heard from you in ages. Are wwe..." Eridan licks his lips nervously. "Are wwe really bros noww, or wwere you just sayin it like a figure a speech?" He meets Karkat's eyes, already trying to stomp down that hope that keeps trying to spring up; just opening himself up to get royally fuckin hurt again if he lets it grow.

 

See, this is exactly why you've been putting this off. So, okay, it's totally not guilt you're feeling, right, but you don't really know what the fuck else to call the tight feeling inside your thoracic cavity, or the swallowing-lumpy feeling in your protein chute, and dammit Ampora didn't _need_ to jump right to the fucking heart of the matter right off the brood plate and everything. But it's really true, you and he did used to be real bros, and you shouldn't say bro at all if you don't mean it.

So... do you mean it?

"Well... okay, it's complicated." You can feel Eridan peering over at you, and you meet his gaze for a second, but you don't even want to envision what sort of emotionally needy, warily tense, and cautiously longing sort of expression he's going to evolve into, so you look away, and sort of start kicking at the deck of Feferi's boat instead. Eridan's presumption is kind of amazing (even though you're the one who brought it up to begin with, okay and shut up), since in what universe would you just be bros with him again right away, after you had so pointedly and repeatedly refused to engage with him for all this time? And yet, it's totally a fair question, if you take him to be wondering if you came here with that intention, to be bros again. And honestly, you don't know. 

"I, okay... shit. I don't want to bullshit you, okay? I don't know, all right. I've been really..." well, upset, but also "...infuriated with you, for a fucking really long time. But."

No, you don't want to get sucked into any of Eridan's weakslime drama, so you cut yourself off, and descend immediately into defensive scowling. You've got to fucking pace yourself. Slowly, you force yourself to look back up into Eridan's... no, Ampora's, best to be professional about this... eyes. You take a deep breath, and also try to force yourself to respond in a more measured, thoughtful way, so as not to spontaneously burst into some seriously regrettable verbiage. You have to be careful, since when it comes down to slick insults and/or ill retorts, you're simply the best there is. 

"But... that's what was," you finally say, feeling pretty goddamn moronical but also that you're making a very important point. "I don't know how I feel about you anymore." 

You take a deep breath. "Anyway, good on you for keeping busy, I guess. Do you mind if I spend the night, or are you going to kick me off you goddamn reef after fucking saving me from it?" 

 

Eridan swallows and nods, something inside of him unclenching a little. So Karkat might not be thrilled to be here, and it sort of sounds like he's not ready to really be bros again, but at least he's not mad anymore. Or, not infuriated at least. That’s a good thing. He's here, and he wants to stay a while--it's Eridan's chance to turn things around. Maybe if he shows Kar a good time, he'll want to come back again. Or at least talk to him online. 

"You're wwelcome to stay as long as you wwant to, Kar," Eridan says. "I don't get a lot a guests out here." Or any, really. He bites his tongue to keep from going on to say just how lonely that can get. It's probably something Kar could figure out on his own, and would just sound incredibly whiny from Eridan's own mouth. Fef's been pretty good about pointing things like that out to him lately, and he's slowly getting better at keeping his glubbing mouth shut before he starts sounding too fuckin pathetic. "Do you havve anythin that needs puttin awway? Or do you wwant somethin to eat or drink? I wwasn't expectin company, but I'm sure I'vve got somethin around. Or I could just showw you around if you wwant?" It's a hell of a lot more hospitality than he's used to providing, but Eridan's decided he's going to be the best damn host Kar has ever had.

 

"I brought stuff, yes." You point to a couple of neatly packed and tied-down boxes in the back. Spending even one night on a boring island in the middle of nowhere might very well drive you out of your fucking sponge without anything awesome to do, especially if things with Ampora get to be even more awkward than they are now. The boxes are filled with choice novels and troll movies, as well as that utterly wretched McConaughey movie, Failure to Launch, which John forced you to pack. Your plan is to unpack that one only as a matter of last resort. 

You go and free the boxes from their restraints, and grab one, figuring that if Ampora wants he can carry the other one. And you start carrying your box to the lighthouse. 

"Food would be good," you say, turning to look over your shoulder back at Eridan for a moment. "And sure, show me the whole kit and squidoodle." You are _pretty_ sure that's the correct human term.

 

Wow, Kar's second box is a lot heavier than Eridan expects, but instead of making him want to complain it's kind of oddly reassuring. If it's heavy it must mean he's packed a lot of stuff in there; shows he really intends to stay a while.

"Wwhat do you evven havve in here, Kar? Wwere you plannin on stayin a night or a wweek?" Eridan asks as they enter the lighthouse. He's smiling tentatively as he motions with his chin to the spiral staircase. "Wwe'll put your stuff up in one a the extra rooms, up the stairs; maybe off a the second landin since the rooms lowwer down are bigger. Ground levvel is where the kitchen and livvin area is."

Eridan grimaces as they enter the room on the second landing--he forgot he'd been using this room as a sort of storage place for all his magic and wizard-related things. There are a few dusty statues of wizards here and there, posters on the walls of famous troll magicians like troll Houdini and troll David Blaine. Eridan can feel the blood rush to his face as he catches sight of the bookshelf in the corner, full of spell books, the complete Harry Potter series, and other highly embarrassin (but also pretty entertaining) fake fakey magic books. Movies too, like The Prestige and The Illusionist and Merlin and all the Harry Potter movies as well as the extended Troll Lord of the Rings are on the bookshelf. In addition to all the magic stuff, this is also the room that's housing the spare recuperacoon, though, so it's the most likely place Karkat's going to want to stay for the night.

"Uh, excuse the mess. I didn't knoww anyone wwould be sleepin in here anytime soon. A course you don't havve to sleep in here if you don't wwant to. I mean, there's only the one recuperacoon, but I havve a human bed in one a the other rooms."

 

A week? God no, you think to yourself. Just overnight. Well, maybe two nights. Or three. You don't really want to be rude and leave too early, after all, and this isn't exactly a trip you want to repeat. If things turns out the way Feferi expects and the way Terezi has been teasing you about, well, maybe you and Eri... er, Ampora... will go back to being bros for real. Which means you can be like everyone else who fails to visit Prince Fishs-A-Lot out here on his douchey troll-forsaken island, and talk to him on Trollian once every few days or so.

But first things first. You narrow your eyes, and give Ampora the most disdainful look you can muster, which is really fucking disdainful and has the sheer charismatic power of like fifty troll Will Smiths. "What do you take me for? I wouldn't sleep in a human bed even if that asshole Strider paid me to." You look around. Tons of typical wizard crap, as expected. A thought occurs to you. "Why do you even have a human bed, Ampora? Don't even tell me you had designs on Lalonde because I think I might puke up chunks of bile nuggets just thinking about it." 

 

Eridan considers for a moment, unsure if what he's about to say will make Karkat vomit all over his precious magic stuff. "Wwell, I ain't rulin anything out, if that's wwhat you're gettin at." He counters Karkat's impressive disdain with a sly smirk, fighting the urge to talk about his romantic endeavors in more detail. While he used to be able to do that with Karkat, that was before. Now it sounds like Kar doesn't want to hear about it. ...Not that there's a whole lot to tell in any case.

"But it's not like I got a human bed specifically to make a movve on any a them. I'm not stupid, Kar; I knoww wwhat kind a reaction to expect by noww--" Eridan shuts his mouth. Apparently he can't resist talking about his incredibly shitty love life after all. Time for a subject change before he messes up any further. "Anywway. I guess you're stayin in here then. Do you wwant to go back dowwnstairs and grab a bite to eat noww or after I showw you the rest a the place?"

 

You hold up your hand in a halt gesture, wanting Ampora to stop right there because you're not moving on from this topic yet. "Hold it." For a crazed moment you find yourself wanting to ask why he got a human bed then, huh, but you shake yourself out of it because that line of questioning would be fucking retarded after you had _just_ gotten done saying you'd blow chunks if Ampora admits to wanting to do filthy human reproductive acts, which apparently require beds the way troll reproductive acts require buckets. So for a moment, you're at a loss. 

But you rally. " _Was_ it Lalonde?" The sly smirk on Ampora's face is annoying. You would prefer to see him discomfited, if only just a little. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but if it was only for sloppy makeout sessions, I can kind of understand." 

Not that Lalonde is in any way your type, mind. Too superior and spooky and with that creepy tendency to go all grimdark, and not in a loser hipster way like Ampora. But you have always had a keen interest in affairs of romance, counting that as your particular specialty and area of unquestionable expertise, and you realize that perhaps this sort of talk might not be so bad after all. All this formal stuff wasn't going to make the two of you either like _or_ loathe each other any more-- if you are going to take Feferi's pleadings to heart, you really should be trying to have some kind of Real Talk here.

Plus, you're a curious man. Nothing wrong with that.

 

"It, wwell, that's not it, I mean..." The smirk has slid off Eridan's face, in its place is flustered confusion at Karkat's change of tack. So it's okay to talk about romance involving humans so far as it's above the belt type romance? Eridan can do that. Eridan wants to talk about this, in fact, and Kar always gives the best advice... and he could really use it now.

"You can't tell Fef wwhat I'm about to say, okay Kar? This has to be in upright confidence." Eridan takes a breath and cards his fingers through his hair. "I think I might be leanin more pale towwards Rose. No sloppy makeouts or anythin like that invvolvved, only feelins jams an moirallegiance. I got the bed just in case she evver wwanted to vvisit, cause she wwouldn't wwant to sleep in a recuperacoon, you knoww? But then like I said and no jokin, if she wwanted to try for another quadrant I probably wwouldn't say no." The amethyst ring on Eridan's right pinky finger is getting a good polish as he fidgets nervously. "I don't knoww wwhat to do, Kar. I don't think it's goin anywwhere wwith Rose, an I still lovve Fef, but... it's complicated." Part of him thinks he should just give moirallegiance with Fef another shot, another part of him is saying that it's just repeating old mistakes if his blood pusher's not in the right quadrant, and another (much more needy) part of him says it'd be nice to have at least one quadrant filled, since it's not like he's gotten any favorable responses to any advances made on his part in... ever.

 

You unconsciously lean your back against the recuperacoon, crossing your arms and thumbing at your chin thoughtfully, since you have all the opinions on quadrant vacillation and quadrant filling, seriously like all of them. At first you wonder if this is some sly trick on Ampora's part, trying to seduce you into some kind of generalizable polyamorous auspisticing role between him and like, every troll and human in the entire universe, which would be so entirely not on that it would in fact be _off_ like stank year-old grubsauce, which would therefore be so scandalously rude you'd have to pretty much sicklefuck this fucker to death and feed him to the hammer-headed bonehead sharks or something. 

But, well. It's not like Ampora is the one who invited you out to this watery shithole outpost in the middle of fucking "BFE" (which Strider suspiciously informs you stands for "Bum Fucking Eridanland," a formulation you highly suspect to be some kind of ridiculously lame attempt at pranking you into saying human bullshit, but which also sounds like an accurate naming device for such a pathetic excuse for a respiteblock, so fuck it, BF fucking E it is). You invited yourself.

So, in that sense, Ampora's failure to offend you to the core of your being allows you to assess his issues more objectively, and although you know it's all probably some dumb actual non-issue since you suspect that Lalonde doesn't hardly even talk to him anymore (does she?), the fact that he is coming to you with his pathetically needy loser romantic issues reminds you of old times, and why you kind of sort of got suckered into friendship with him in the first place: you didn't have the two-chambered hemopump not to. "Things being complicated is just a part of the game, Ampora," you say finally, dropping some sick wisdom on his undeserving ass. "The key thing for you is to be slightly fucking discriminating."

 

“Bein discriminatin is a lot fuckin easier said than done,” Eridan mutters, mouth turning down into a petulant frown. He knows most everyone either wishes he had stayed very platonically dead or is indifferent to him at this point, and he likes to think he's okay with that and doesn't need anyone. That's why he chose to live out here on the ocean away from everyone else in the first place. No one wanted him around? Fine, he didn't want them either. … Only now he realizes that was yet another huge fuckin mistake. And, okay, so maybe sometimes he tries asking if a particularly black exchange over Pesterchum or Trollian means anything, but only to see if anyone's changed their minds! What would Kar know about being that lonely anyway? Everyone likes Kar. He can afford to be discriminating.

Eridan sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he turns toward the doorway. Kar means well. And much as he really hates admitting it, Eridan brought all his problems on his own head. “Thanks for the advvice, Kar. I think I need some air. You comin?”

 

Infuriating. Blowing you off by thanking you for your exquisite and perfectly crafted advice, instead of thinking it over and actually _taking_ it, is one of Ampora's chief idiocies in your fucking impeccable opinion. Also it shows that once more, he just doesn't fucking get it: nothing telegraphs "fuck you I don't actually care about you as a potential matesprit or kismesis at all, all I care about is my fucking emotional fuckwad baggage" more than hitting on everyone in his immediate vicinity: like how he used to, and also like some kind of poseur Nice Troll that you used to read about in troll Cosmopolitan magazine. (Fuck. You don't even want to think about the dark days you decided to sample the filial obscenities of fucking girl magazines, but unfortunately that had proved to be a valuable resource for learning about suave redrom tricks like the Top Ten Tips for Romancin' Your Best Bud or Best Gal.)

Fuck. And fuck you too, fucking Past Karkat who decided to come out here to Loserville Island, population: one. Ampora hasn't fucking changed a particle. But... well. You push past Ampora and stomp down the fucking ostentatious prince-style purpleblood circular stairwell and lead the way to the bracing fucking sea air. 

But halfway down the stairs you stop, and point back up at Ampora, who looks maybe a little startled and maybe a little pissed off and, you belatedly notice, as lonely as he fucking well ought to be, and you relent a tiny bit. Okay you know you are a top asshole and it's a fucking mystery why anyone in the universe ever puts up with your prima-donna antics, even you know that they are calculated to be as stupidly off-putting as possible... and yet the world is populated with oblivious morons who seem to be both able and more than willing to grant you some latitude (although too fucking much, in that asshole Future Karkat's stupidass opinion) for when you're being especially temperamental and shit. It's not exactly fair how no-one, including yourself you suppose, is willing to cut Ampora the same sort of slack.

"That wasn't advice," you grudgingly point out. "That was a fucking intervention." You get all imposing looking, drawing all your leaderly commanding experiences to be as kickass authoritative as possible. "And you're going to take it because I am awesome and said so." And because if you guys have any chance of ever being buds again, he has to stop pretending to fucking listen to you, and actually listen. "Now come on, Eridan. I'm starving and in serious need of some kind of grub. Whatever you've got is cool." 

It sort of pains you to use Ampora's regular name since you're not really on those kind of good terms with him again, and you were kind of wanting to hold back on doing that until you could see that things were at least starting to work out between you two. Going back towards how things used to be, you mean. You'll go back to calling him Ampora again just as soon as fucking possible, you decide. But... if making him actually listen requires some sacrifice, your principles are disposable enough for that.

 

For a moment all Eridan can do is stare in shock at Karkat's retreating back. Before he can say the first biting thing that comes to mind, Kar's called him by his first name. He's more confused than ever by that. Kar's words and actions really sting—a fuckin intervention; what the hell is that supposed to mean?—but getting called Eridan for once like old times softens the blow. He can't just dismiss this 'intervention', no matter how infuriatingly much he thinks Kar just doesn't understand what he's asking (or commanding, really). Because... maybe Kar cares, still, even if it's just a little bit. And that's worth not fuckin everything up by throwing all his issues in Kar's face right now.

So Eridan bites his tongue. But that's all the concession Kar's getting; Eridan's not one to take orders in his own home easily, or anywhere else for that matter. He proceeds down the stairs and into the kitchen with his back held very straight, lips pursed tight. 

“You can go havve a seat at the table,” Eridan says, gesturing smoothly at the small table set with two chairs near a window set in the gently curving wall. One chair is piled with odds and ends—several maritime maps and almanacs, a few shiny coins and a half-full mug of cold coffee as paperweights—clearly more a catch-all than a place for another person to sit. “Givve me a sec to get some food.”

He comes back with a plate full of what the humans apparently called 'sashimi' and what Eridan calls a nice snack—colorful slices of cold raw fish—and a couple bowls full of hearty fish stew. “I hope you like fish, cause that's wwhat I havve,” he tells Karkat, setting the plate and bowls on the table before clearing his things off the unoccupied chair.

 

You seriously do not love fish, not at all, but grub is grub and you weren't lying when you said you were hungry. It is quiet for several minutes as you stuff your grubhole, and you pointedly try to focus only on the food... but your eyes keep returning to Ampora's stupid face. He looks like he has one of his annoying white science-sticks stuffed right up his annoying uptight nook. He is barely even eating any of his stupid food himself, what a fucking fish-food hypocrite-- but maybe he is just tired of the shit, what else is even out here grub-wise? Dolphins? Are those even edible, you wonder.

"Terezi and Strider are still an item," you decide to mention, casually, who the fuck even knows why. 

Ampora of course would be worse than useless when it comes to romantic advice, but you decide that sometimes it's okay venting to a disinterested party, and this is one of the things weighing super heavily on your mind at the moment. "She and I are still, too, of course," you continue. "'Matesprits for life' and all that bullshit. But... well, it's fucking annoying. Strider doesn't know the first goddamn shit about proper vacillation, and so doesn't fucking step off when he should-- and I've pretty much given up on trying to schoolfeed that douchebag about it. So..." 

Your voice trails off nicely into contemplative silence and you look off into some fake far-away distance, which would be a lot better of a gesture if there were a nice big window in here, but there isn't. So basically, you stare at the the far-away wall and make do.

It will be tricky to explain the exact nature of your arrangement with Terezi and Dave. It's not traditional, in fact it's the very definition of scandalous, but it's been working. Mostly. You swallow, letting your gaze casually drift back over to Ampora's loser face... he looks disturbingly over-interested, eager to hear more, and that gives you certain pangs. You wish he didn't care so much, about every fucking little thing including relationships he has nothing to do with. But then again, so do you. It's a little disquieting to see how that kind of eagerness for connectedness looks like, from the outside. He looks just about as pathetic as you actually know yourself to be. 

Anyway, disinterested, Eridan isn't. Might as well stop pretending that you're simply venting here, and be a little bit more open about your real frustrations. "Things would be so much easier if Strider just went after Egbert, like he so obviously wants to," you say finally. "That would help a lot." 

 

The sulk Eridan's in could have lasted a lot longer had Karkat not started talking about his own relationships. He's much hungrier for some juicy gossip and actual connection with Kar on a personal level than he is for his food, and it's promptly ignored in favor of listening to Kar's troubles with Dave and Terezi. 

Eridan doesn't know all the details of the situation between Karkat, Dave, and Terezi, but from brief conversations with Terezi and Dave since being alive again, he's managed to glean that they're in a sort of Terezi-sharing concupiscent quadrant vacillation arrangement. (With no room for him in any of those quadrants, Dave and Terezi assured him.) Apparently he missed a lot while he was dead.

“Maybe he's afraid a bein rejected,” Eridan says, picking at a piece of yellowtail while watching Karkat stare uncomfortably off at nothing at all. Karkat might be the expert on romance, but if there was ever an expert on rejection, it's Eridan. A person might get used to getting rejected, but Eridan knows from experience that it doesn't mean it stops hurting. Not the second time and not the fiftieth either. “Tell him he should just do it; wwaitin til it's too late hurts more than just gettin rejected outright from the start. Not tellin Fef howw I really felt from the start wwas still one a the stupidest things I'vve evver done an that's sayin somthin, considerin... I'vve done a fuckin lot a really stupid things.”

Fuck, that was hard to admit out loud. Not like it's any big secret, though. 

Eridan wrinkles his nose, pushing the plate of food away. “An anyway, if Davve's got feelins for John then it's not really fuckin fair to you and Ter for him to be vvacillatin in your quadrants at the same time.” That's at least something Eridan would never do: if anyone ever were to take him up on filling a quadrant, he'd quit looking to fill that one with anyone else. “Vvacillatin's one thing. That's another.”

 

Slowly, you turn back around to look again at Ampora, fixing him with a disbelieving but also kind of frustrated stare. Yeah, right, like Eridan could ever seriously understand the kind of compromises that can become necessary when it comes to real romance. You'd kind of like to point out that Dave isn't actually in any of _your_ quadrants at all, that he's just an annoying dude who happens to be around an awful lot and who Terezi is taken with for godawful and possibly spurious reasons. But doesn't Eridan get that Terezi herself is the one who's doing the vacillating here? You are used to it, resigned to it even, but well. That's not even the issue.

Unfortunately, Ampora is looking back at you all earnest and kind of uncomfortable which makes you realize he's projecting, which is pretty much an emotional tic for him at this point. You can see why Eridan would look at quadrant-squatting and/or insincere quadrant filling with a wary eye, after all, seeing as how those can be argued to be his primary past romantic sins. But still. He should give both Strider _and_ Terezi a little fucking credit. You know full well that their feelings for each other are real, just like your feelings for her are real, and hers for you are real. And well, if Dave happens to be pining for John secretly on the inside, that's really no one else's issue but his own. 

Selfishly, the only reason you even care is because Dave fruitlessly pursuing John would have given you more time with Terezi just to yourself. 

Well, and for another small reason too, hardly worth mentioning, not even to yourself. 

So you swallow your impulse to give Eridan some well-deserved "you are a moron" smack since that would probably make him all, um, "clam" up and be all uptight again, ahaha that was a fucking fish pun, god fish puns are the lamest things ever, and you are seriously such a tool. But, you have to admit, an awesome and insightful tool. Your pleasure in your own secret awesomeness causes you to smile a little, involuntarily, full of self-loving smugness for a moment. But then you remember Ampora's stupidity. Ah yes. What to say, what to say.

"It's different," you say finally. "I don't even know if you know about Egbert's little hangup, but basically... and this is so ridiculous, don't feel at all obliged not to laugh... Egbert claims that he doesn't do dudes." You roll your eyes. "I know, right? Pretend you know what I'm talking about. Anyways, Strider's basically shit out of luck, and refuses to follow the fucking shipping chart I made for him which tells him that _Jade_ is the one he should bone with his obscene human sex-proboscis anyway. The man is clearly lacking in reason or sense." 

Just thinking about it makes you fume. You begin fuming. You are a highly passion-filled person and fuming is basically what you do.

You take a few angry mouthfuls of fish stew, to further your fuming. You point at Ampora with a heaping spoonful of his fishy fish stew. "I don't actually care if Strider is red for a million different people at one time. That's fine. Has nothing to do with me at all. He just..." You take another angry mouthful of stew, and then speak around it. "needs to fwucking stop monopplyiizing Tereezz all the tyym."

 

Suddenly Eridan doesn't feel quite so bad about being rejected by John in all quadrants, at least, after Karkat's explained why even Dave doesn't have a chance with him. How ridiculous, not considering at least an entire half of the population quadrant-worthy. He shakes his head and laughs a little, though absurdly enough he also finds he feels a little bit of pity for Dave. Eridan knows what it's like not to have any hope of sharing a concupiscent quadrant with the person you were meant for.

“I don't knoww, Kar; reason an sense don't mix wwith feelins all that wwell. They're like oil an wwater a lot a the time,” Eridan says, still smiling. This is almost like they're real bros again, just two dudes talking romance and gossip. “Wwish I kneww wwhat to do to help you... havve you tried just tellin Ter you wwant to spend more time wwith her?”

 

Ha. If you tried that, Terezi would basically laugh in your face. And then probably she'd run off and go play Trollcops of Justice with Strider, even more than she already does. Their relationship is incomprehensibly weird to you, and you're not sure if it's the human element or just Strider's stupid ironic cool dude thing which makes the romantic side of it so hard for you to fathom. 

But whatever; acting clingy and demanding in the face of it is not going to do you any favors, either way. It's a little tempting to point this out to Ampora, but you can see it now: Ampora would take it as some kind of affidavit on his paramouric failures, an implicit critique of all of his way unnecessary and off-putting clinginess... so it's a little hard for you to say that a part of why you don't go down that road is that Ampora himself has served as a very useful object lesson for you in How Not to Woo A Matesprit.

You stuff your face some more, and finish off your stew. You then eye the raw fish bits dubiously. Looks pretty damn egregiously disgusting, to you. "You're helping me already," you admit. "I have figured out my way of dealing with this and it works out as good as anything. Mostly, I just go off and do other things and leave them alone for a while." After some contemplation, you decide to pass on the bites of wriggly recently alive fish flesh, and push the plate away from yourself, signaling that you're done. "Wanna show me your ocean paradise now?"

 

Oh. Now Eridan's figured out what Kar meant when he'd first gotten off his boat, about not having anything better to do—his 'something better to do' was spending time with Terezi. And now he's sort of feeling grateful to Dave, if monopolizing her time was what it took to get Karkat to finally come visit him. The worst part is he only feels a little bit guilty about it.

But he's helping; Kar said so himself. Eridan's smile widens as he clears away the dishes, feeling happier than he has in a long time. “Yeah, Kar; let's go up to the top a the lighthouse. It's a vvieww you'll nevver forget.” It's also a view he's never gotten to share with anyone else before, and that is a real fuckin shame.

It's a long trek up the spiraling staircase of the towering lighthouse. Every few landings Eridan pauses to give them a break from climbing, pointing out his library of legendary historical conquerors and famous maritime explorers, the other spare rooms, and his own room, letting Kar know he was welcome wherever he felt like going in the place. 

“An this is the lantern room,” Eridan says as they reach the last landing. He grins over his shoulder at Karkat as he pushes open the door, then steps aside to let Karkat enter first, gesturing him in with a flourish.

 

Ahh, Ampora's version of miracles and Faygo. It's good that he's letting you go first, so you don't have to completely suppress the pained rictus of a frozen grin that you get when you are trying for whatever fuck-faced reason to hold back all of your richly deserved contempt. It is super hard for you not to succumb to the nearly irresistible reflex to say something douchy and awful, as was your former wont. As is often your current wont, as well. But actually, Jade has a lot to do with why you make at least some cursory levels to display what she would classify as "basic fucking decency" but what you know to actually be "perfectly pristine and undeserved but really super gracious courtesy."

Seriously, you deserve medals for this shit. You wander over to the window and look out at the ocean. Sure is a lot of fucking ocean out there. Wow, really, so much fucking ocean, it's so fucking amazing you didn't even know, considering you spent like half a day in a stupid fucking boat just to get here.

Clearly, Ampora is stupidly proud of this bullshit. Clearly, he thinks you are going to be so fucking impressed, you'll be crying tears of gratefulness to have been given the amazing opportunity to look upon his fucking bountiful kingdom of water water fucking everywhere and not a drop that doesn't fucking suck lusus balls.

"It's... nice, Eridan," you say after a couple minutes of wrangling the sick fires of your contempt into some kind of decent smoldering but controllable irritability. You sound only slightly begrudging which you hope that Ampora interprets as being impressed, since you don't really want to deal with any of his stupid emotional theatricality at the moment especially since he seems to be making some kind of actual efforts to fucking tone it down. That sort of restraint needs to be rewarded, you tell yourself, mentally patting yourself on the back over how awesome and how much of a great leader you are, even when there isn't any actual leading that needs to be done anymore. "Real nice."

 

Nice. Real nice, even! He'd have loved a more impressed reaction, but since it’s from Kar it's a pretty decent compliment. Eridan's grin widens. “You're fuckin right it is.”

He makes his way around the lantern itself to admire the view himself out the westerly windows, setting his hands on his hips like a proud lord surveying his domain. 

“It'd be a lot nicer if there wweren't so many clouds,” Eridan concedes, brow wrinkling a bit. The gray sky mutes the sea to a flat cobalt color, none of the brilliance of it shining through. He likes the ocean just fine this way, but it would have been a lot better for Karkat if the weather had cooperated more, since he's only visiting for a day and only gets to see it this once. He's going to leave never having seen the sun sparkling on the waves like eye-piercing diamonds, or see the sun set over the sea, tinging the sky and water alike with oranges, pinks, and lavenders. Maybe if he comes back...

“Hey Kar, come wwith me out on the galleries; the vview is wway better outside. It's exhilaratin!” The urge to grab hold of Karkat's hand takes Eridan and he almost goes for it without thinking... but hesitates. They're not really bros again yet, much as it feels like it to him, and he is not gonna fuckin push Kar. Coming on too strong is a good way to make sure Kar never comes back to visit again. So Eridan settles for just waving him out as he opens the door to the narrow balcony that wraps around the lighthouse's lantern room instead.

 

You go as directed, wanting to roll your eyes but holding back since Ampora can see you now. Stepping outside, the whipping wind is truly "exhilaratin,'' assuming that means sharp and gusty and possibly capable of capsizing smaller lighthouses. Ampora follows you directly and comes to stand right next to you, looking more at you than he's looking at his so-called unforgettable view. Of course, Ampora is grinning at you like a fuck-damn fucking idiot, too, and so you look at him levelly for a moment.

But then you think: well, wait, this is a shit-ton of nothing much, and it seems like possibly the worst way to live ever, but for Ampora, it legit makes him happy. He really looks ridiculously pleased. You find yourself smiling back at him, a slight smile but it's genuine too.

After a moment of that, you turn back to look at his giant ocean that he probably thinks of as his own private-ass property. You lean your forearms onto the railing, leaning forward a bit to allow the hideously strong wind rip over your face and into your hair. You close your eyes. You take a deep breath. You think about Terezi.

Coming out here might have been entirely an idea hatched by Feferi, out of guilt of her own or perhaps over a left-over moirail sense of obligation towards Eridan... you don't really know all of her reasons... but from the beginning, Feferi had been in nefarious cahoots with Terezi. 

Terezi's perplexingly strong advocacy for this course of action was what pushed you over the edge into actually making this trip and having this visit. Advocacy, and endless teasing. Wasn't Eridan your main gossip bro, she'd say. Aren't you going to wither off into nothingness with no one to properly gossip with, she'd also say. Get over your wronged bro act and go see him already, she'd say finally, with an air of triumph and righteousness, as if these were all killer points. And as always, as some kind of coup de grace that you don't care about: "You know you want to." And, when none of these lame tactics actually worked, she basically challenged you to one of her fake court duals which of course was totally rigged, during which His Fakeass Dishonorable Tyranny sentenced you to time visiting Ampora. Strider of course had acted out that role. The sheer indecency of that whole shady liaison pretty much drove you out here anyway. You don't need that kind of ridiculous shit in your life. You really, really don't. 

Not for the first time, you think about how it sort of sucks, having a matesprit who is pretty much totally sneaky and horrible (also, adorable, but that is not on-point atm). 

All of the stupid indignities. All of the stupid time.

"Not bad," you say after a few moments of this pointless remembering, and open your eyes, and look back at Ampora once more. "I don't actually get it, but it's nice." Well, you guess it's nice. Leaving off the "I guess" is another Jade thing.

 

Eridan breathes the chill, sea-spray laden air deeply, trying (and pretty well failing) to calm his suddenly scudding bloodpusher. Karkat's smile, small as it is, is a damn rare thing. Who needs fuckin sunlight when something warm as that is directed at him? Sharing this with Kar was definitely the best idea he's had in a long time.

He's staring, he knows it, and doesn't give a damn. Karkat's closed his eyes; he won't be bothered. As long as Eridan keeps it at staring instead of wrapping his arm around Kar like he wants to, he's doing pretty fuckin well restraining himself. So he watches the wind ruffle Karkat's hair, admires the almost peaceful look on his face until Karkat opens his eyes and speaks.

“Nevver thought I'd havve to explain wwhat's so amazin about bein up here,” Eridan says, leaning against the railing beside Karkat. “Don't a bunch a your romance novvels take place by the sea? I thought it wwas suppose to be fuckin romantic, listenin to the shoosh of the wwavves an breathin the sea tang in the air wwith someone. I mean, not that I took you out here for romantic purposes, 'cause that wwasn't evven a thought, I fuckin swear.” Except that now it is a thought. Wanting to put his arm around Kar, staring at him all beautiful; that wasn't so bro-like, was it? That was pretty fuckin romantic. Shit. “Just thought that might be a reason you'd like it, bein as you like that romance stuff.”

Eridan can feel the blood rushing to his face. Salvage it, Ampora, god fuckin damn it all! He turns away and looks out to sea, worrying his lip, sure his fins have lit up bright violet. “I like to come out here wwhen I need to think,” he says. “The wwind an the wwavves are soothin. An... bein up this high makes me think a my lusus. Those are just my reasons for likin it though; that an it's just a gorgeous vview.”

God, that got embarrassing fast. “Fuck, forget I said anything.”

 

Okay now you unreservedly and unrestrainedly roll your eyes, because what the fuck? Ampora has so many fucking bad communication habits, it's like he took a correspondence course on how to be the most mealy-tongued immature wiggler of all fucking time. Take backs are for losers, you mentally think at him with much silent scorn, and what the fuck is so horrible about him missing his (allegedly awesome) lusus anyway? You miss your own damn lusus. Not all the time or anything, and not in any kind of whimpering sad-sac lamer way, but you miss him well enough, he was a pretty good dad.

"Usually when it's romantic it's all like, on the shore and stuff," you point out, a bit acerbically since like Ampora shouldn't even try to explain romance to you, it's ludicrous he'd even try. "But come on, Amp- Eridan. I wasn't really asking for a FAQ, but it's not like it sucks that you like it up here. I wasn't dissin' you, dude. Jeez."

You poke him in the arm. Not super hard, but in a come-the-fuck- _on_ kind of way. "Anyway, nope. Not gonna forget it. I don't see why I should."

 

There's a mixture of shock, relief, and something warm Eridan doesn't want to examine too closely right now, roiling around in his insides. Kar's not mad at him, or well, okay, he's mad at his faulty knowledge of ocean-related romance, but that's not so bad. And Kar keeps using his first name, and even poked him in irritation like he used to do sometimes. Like they're still friends. Eridan can't believe how lucky he is not to have completely fucked up. That warmth in him might just be a fuckin stubborn spark of hope that's just getting stronger, and good as it feels, it's also pretty upright terrifying.

“But Kar, it wwas embarrasin,” he says as he rubs the spot Karkat poked with a pout on his still-flushed face. Leaning over and bumping his shoulder into Karkat's, he adds, “I'd do it for you, you knoww.”

Eridan doesn't actually expect Karkat to give in, but he can't just let Kar get away with giving him a hard time. Meeting Karkat's eyes, he smiles a little. “Anywway, since you're not appreciatin it up here as much as I thought—really as much as you upright ought to,” he teases, “wwe should go back in. It's lookin like the wwinds ain’t goin to let up any time soon anywway.” It’s the tail end of monsoon season, but it’s not exactly over yet. The wind is strong enough even Eridan isn’t ready to stand out in it for too fuckin long.

 

That has got to be the goddamn truth. You take one last look, making sure to peek down at the dock; good, Feferi's boat is still there. Getaway route secured.

Although you're a bit surprised to realize you're not actually having a wretched time. Getaway plan, potentially deferred? You decide that staying for a few extra days wouldn't probably turn out to be that heinously terrible. 

But whatever. You nod at Eridan, glad to escape the wind at least, in any case. "Yeah, let's go in," you say and then shrug, and you make a point of bumping your shoulder against his twice as hard, since that is kind of the rule. "Gotta tell Terezi all of that stuff you just said if I can borrow your Trollian app for a sec." 

Are you teasing? Ho ho ho ha ha. Maybe.

 

Eridan stumbles as Karkat's relatiatory shoulder bump knocks him off guard. It's fuckin undignified, but there's a smile on his face, at least until Kar's words sink in.

“Wwhat, no, Kar! You wwouldn't dare.” Except maybe he would. And then there'll be no talking to Terezi after that without Eridan getting laughed at more than she already laughs at him. “Are you jokin, Kar? You can use my computer, but you gotta promise that wwhat I said stays between us.”

He leads Karkat through the lantern room and back down the spiraling staircase, heading for his own respite block. It's one of the highest rooms in the lighthouse and on the small side because of it, but the height and the view out his window are the reasons Eridan chose it as his personal space. Beneath the window is the desk with his computer on it, strategically positioned so that he can look up and see outside whenever he's there. And yeah, he's still got a fridge full of shitty wands, even though the white science wand is the only one that actually works. The rest are just kept for sentimental reasons. There's also a recuperacoon, a small bookcase holding his favorite books (mostly magic-related, with some historical books and such), and a writing desk with some maps scattered on it. Similar to what's in the other rooms of Eridan's lighthouse, but what's in here are his most treasured things.

This is the first time he's let anyone inside his respite block before. And his computer is something he never thought he'd be sharing with anyone at all; it's way more private even than his personal space. But looks like this is a whole day of surprises, what with Kar even being here in the first place.

Eridan hesitates before turning his computer on, trying to remember if he's got anything really mortifying on his desktop. He doesn't think so... still, he darts Karkat a wary look. “Are you really gonna tell Ter about evverythin I said?” he asks. “Is that really wwhy you wwant to pester her right noww?”

 

Touchy. You remain baffled why this actually has to be a big secret, but it's no surprise to you that Ampora continues to press the point since when has he not been super paranoid about... well, everything? "No," you admit grudgingly, holding up your hands in appeasement. "I promised I'd send a message when I arrived, that's all." Ampora's expression remains soddenly anxious. "Um. If you want you can sit behind me and watch what I type."

It doesn't bother you at all when Ampora decides to take you up on your offer, since secretly you are very proud of your virtuoso trolling skills and have always sort of enjoyed having an audience, it amps up your sick rhetoric. You settle into his desk chair while Ampora goes off to get something to sit behind you with, and although when Ampora comes back and sets up creepily close, you don't even care, you are already on a roll chatting up Terezi. Of course, like usual you're not using capslock... the capslock key is for losers, you are always in badass shift-key mode.

Everything gets way out of hand almost immediately. Besides Terezi, unasked-for chat windows pop open from John and Gamzee and even that idiot Equius. You tab through the various windows at light speed, brutally cutting off Equius with a curt "SHUT UP I'M TALKING TO TEREZI" but getting into a bit of a conversation with John and Gamzee each, since one is your morail and the other one is... fuck, you don't want to think about whatever the fuck John is to you. Anyway, John wants to know if you've shown Eridan Failure to Launch yet and you are all, "NO, GOD NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR STUPID MOVIE. WE WERE LOOKING AT THE FUCKING OCEAN." Gamzee for his part wants you to describe the ocean in detail, as if his ass isn't at that moment parked on his own goddamn beach, looking at his own goddamn ocean. You testily inform him that you're going to prepare a formal memo later. He just laughs and says he's looking forward to it, then, calling you "my sweetass favorite fucking motherfucker." You and he then exchange some shooshpapping gooey moirail stuff (you try to tone it down, though, since Eridan's watching), but when he tries to transition out of that and rhapsodize about this fucking awesome flower he saw earlier, you cut him off and tell him to take it to Tavros instead. 

But Terezi. Terezi gets the majority of your attention, and you pound on the keys with mad aggressive expertise, powering through your conversation with her at a dizzying tempo. She wastes no time diving into some serious slander re: you and Captain Jack Sparrow (aka Eridan) and you have to witheringly point out that he's reading every damn thing she types and anyway who the fuck is Captain Jack Sparrow? Turns out he's some human pirate superstar or whatever, and thank you Strider for contaminating Terezi's mind with even more stupid human bullshit. She tells you she hopes you and Ampora go out on sea adventures and you are all, "MY NAME IS NOT SPINNERET FUCKFANG, YOU UNBELIEVABLE TOOL OF A GIRLFRIEND" and okay that was a little sooty and vacillatory of you but shit, that's the kind of fuel that keeps your love raging hot. She tells you you're adorable.

You pretty much lose track of time with all this flagrant flirting, but Ampora doesn't seem to mind-- or at least he's not trying to pressure you to stop, and so it's a nice satisfying fruity rumpus all around, unspoilt by Strider's presence or commentary. This is at least a part of why it's nice to get away.

 

At first Eridan pays close attention to the conversations Karkat is having, just to make sure he's keeping his word and not telling anyone about all the personal stuff Eridan shared with him, all that stuff about why he likes it up on the galleries and that embarrassing romance stuff. The fact that he's stupidly keeping a human bed around just in case one of them ever decides they want to visit him too... really, there's a whole host of incriminating things Karkat could share with everyone about him.

But he doesn't. And it makes Eridan think maybe he was just being a bloody idiot to ever think he was serious about blabbing in the first place. He's never gone and done that before, not any of the times Eridan spilled his messy guts to him... but then, he'd never not talked to him before either, like he did all that time before showing up here today.

Bloody idiot or not, Eridan's glad he let Kar get on his computer. Karkat's doing quite a bit more than just shooting Terezi a message to let her know he made it to Eridan's island safely, but Eridan doesn't actually mind all that much. Once he's satisfied that Karkat's not going to go spilling all his fuckin secrets he relaxes and just watches the conversations unfold. This is something he hasn't really managed to do so well with the others... almost all his conversations with them end up with him getting told to go away, or with him getting ignored or blocked entirely. At least no one has blown his computer up again, like Rose did so long ago. Not that he's managed to have a sustained conversation with her either without making a mess of it. Somehow he even comes on too strong when he's looking for pale romance. Eridan had chalked that up to everyone still hating him for killing Fef and Kan... and the matriorb... (Sol deserved that KO; nobody can convince Eridan otherwise) but watching Kar's conversation with Ter it looks to him like she, at least, doesn't dislike him as much as she always makes out to whenever he talks to her. Maybe later he'll ask Kar about it.

That Captain Jack Sparrow thing she called him is kind of appealing to him, for instance. Being compared to a human pirate superstar is pretty fuckin sweet. Too bad Karkat doesn't seem very excited about the idea of going on seafaring adventures with him; he was sort of hoping to take him out on his sailboat later, once the weather cleared. Show him all the coolest parts of the reef around them, maybe go out at low tide so he could take him into the grottoes in his little island.

But actually Kar looks a lot more in his element here on the computer than he did even just out looking at the ocean, nevermind being on it. He looks like he's really enjoying himself, really getting into it as he pounds out some pretty inspired vitriol out on Eridan's keyboard. That's something he never noticed before, how hard Karkat hits the keys—he types just as loud as he sometimes talks. Probably why his talons are so blunt. That thought brings a smile to Eridan's face; Karkat's bluntness is part of what he likes so much about him. He's not afraid to be direct and tell it like it is. And the sharpness of his tongue and his mind more than make up for the bluntness of his talons and fangs and horns.

And, okay, Eridan's thoughts are verging into pretty ruddy territory as he admires Karkat, which is not something he can allow himself. Back to bros first! And while it looks like that's on a good course right now, Eridan's afraid if he lets himself fall back into some red feelings for Karkat he'll just be damn well fuckin things up. He's not at all certain Kar wouldn't upright reject him now. And then that ridiculous glimmer of bloody stubborn hope? Crushed, that's what it would be. Even thinking about it hurts.

So Eridan sighs and pulls his gaze away from Karkat and back to the screen, and watches Kar interact with his girlfriend some more.... Right... he's got his concupiscent and conciliatory redrom quadrants filled already anyway. _We can be bros; I'd be fuckin lucky to be bros with him again,_ Eridan reminds himself. Not like he has any right to hope for more than that anyway, after all the fuckin unconscionable things he's done.

 

You finally wrap things up with Terezi, who makes lots of kissy faces at you via emoticon, and you feel a twinge of regret when you close her chat window and then shut down the program, because now it means it's back to just you and Ampora. 

But you stifle that feeling, troll up and swing around in Eridan's desk chair and paste a big grin on your face, your signature forced grin that everyone basically makes fun of you for, because crabby people making awkward attempts at congeniality are apparently huge wellsprings of humor for all fucking imbecilic shitheads everywhere, including those you call your friends. You have given up caring about the shit you do that makes you seem awkward, however... you're a really fucking nice guy and if that means you have to look like someone who just drank obscene pails full of vinegar like some kind of terribad slut of awkwardness from time to time, so the fuck what?

"What next," you ask, which basically garners you the expected 'wwhatever you want' response, and for the next few minutes you and he do the incredibly lame dance of 'I'm game for whatever,' 'no _I'm_ game for whatever' niceties because you and Ampora are such fucking bastions of inanity... wait, no you're not. At least, _you_ are not. Before things can slither down into that particular wormhole of imbecility, you decide to proactively ask Ampora to list the various recreational opportunities on this cod-forsaken island (ha ha another fish pun) (no of course you do not actually say that out loud, what kind of a lameass wannabe fincreature do you take yourself for?) and dutifully Ampora lists them off: sailing after the windstorm passes (pointless, bring that up later when it's possible, or preferably tomorrow), grottoing after the storm passes (ditto), watching some wizard films (no), LARPing ( _fuck_ no), looking at the ocean some more (oh my god why is this even happening?!). 

This is going fucking nowhere. You listen to Ampora tick off all the available options silently, keeping all of your slick burns to yourself, aggressively buttoning down all of your customary fuming since experience has taught you that all your fuming ever achieves with Ampora is to make his lips quiver and his eyes become wet with unshed bullshit. Gotta head that bilge off at the pass before it turns into a thing that requires Lalonde-level psychological intervention. "Do you have any board games?" you ask. "Like Pictionary? I like Pictionary."

In fact you are the fucking emperor of Pictionary. If Ampora doesn't happen to have it, you would not be especially opposed to digging through one of your travel boxes and bringing out the Pictionary set you brought, just in case.

 

“Wwell I havve some games,” Eridan says, “but not that one. I'vve got Magic: The Gatherin cards an Dungeons an Dragons gatherin dust in the place somewwhere.”

Those games were never as fun as live-action roleplaying, though, even when other people would have been willing to play with him. Now? Eridan's lucky if anyone will have an extended conversation with him over the internet, let alone actually want to spend enough time with him to play any games.

He heaves a frustrated sigh. If he'd known Kar liked Pictionary before he came over to visit, he'd have made sure to have the game on hand. As it is, he just doesn't know what to suggest to make Kar happy.

Unless...

“I'vve got paper an pencils,” Eridan ventures. “Wwhat else do wwe need to play Pictionary? Isn't that wwhere you guess wwhat the other troll's drawwin?”

 

"Yeah, that's basically it," you say, deciding to ignore Eridan's sigh because shut up people sigh, who cares? 

But actually that is kind of hard to do. For a moment you open your mouth in order to boast about how you brought it yourself but it sort of occurs to you that will be taken as (and in fact, accurately reflects) the fact that you pre-anticipated what a boring ass island this would be and decided to supply all of your own entertainment just in case. Belatedly, it sort of dawns on you how shitty that actually would be at this particular moment, since if you wanted to use your board you should have brought it up to begin with. And anyway, even though your feelings about Ampora are complicated and not back to baseline bro levels at the moment, it would be sort of... it's still too early to break into your stash, not with all of that sighing going on.

You decide to improvise.

Like a super awesome threshecutioner in training, which is what you actually are, you pull out the sweet mental gyrations that are your hallmark of awesomeness. "Why don't you go grab your Magic cards? We'll use those as our word source and draw from them. Sound good?" You sound very earnest and straightforward since that's the best way to counter stupid Eridan sighing which you don't like or want to hear. "I mean, if it's cool with you and you want to play."

 

Eridan perks up immediately, both at Karkat's tone and the suggestion of melding Magic and Pictionary. “Yeah, that sounds fuckin great, Kar. I'll go grab evverythin an you can just sit tight. Wwe can play at my wwritin desk.”

The Magic cards are in the room Karkat's staying in tonight, the one with all the stored magical and wizarding stuff, he thinks. Luckily, he's right and it doesn't take long for him to find them and go back up the stairs to his room. He takes the stairs two at a time, getting more excited about playing this game with Kar as he shuffles his Magic cards, catching glimpses of some of his old favorites now and then. This is going to be fun.

There's a grin on his face by the time he enters his room again. Eridan breezes over to his writing desk and clears it of all the random maps and papers and books that were on it, opening a drawer in it to pull out fresh paper and writing utensils for himself and Karkat. Pulling up the rather ornamental-looking antique carved writing chair for himself, he offers Kar the more comfortable—and no less stylish—computer chair. 

“Okay, Kar, givve these a shuffle. That wway you knoww I'm not cheatin,” he says, handing his thick deck of Magic cards to Karkat. It's actually only part of his stash of cards, but it'll be more than enough for the purposes of their game. “Then, I don't knoww. You wwant to draww first, Kar? I'vve nevver actually played Pictionary before...”

 

Dude, you're already shuffling. Cold blooded, that's what you are. Except not really your blood is like the hottest blood there is but it's just a figure of speech, whatever. You're basically Jack Noir but not freakishly insane, that's what you're saying here. 

You're a predator. A predator of fucking Pictionary. 

"I'm gonna do better than draw," you boast, grinning your freakish grin to illustrate badass smugness. "I'm gonna show you how it's done."

 

(Next up: Pictionary!!)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More nonsense! Pictionary commences.

Kar’s gonna show Eridan how drawing is done as they play this Magic-and-Pictionary game, huh?  Excellent.  He smiles back at Karkat’s giant, smug grin, keeping to himself the thought that there really is no better artist than Ter.  Kar’s drawings are all right, but they’re not Ter-level awesome.  Still, he’s really looking forward to getting schoolfed with them, nonetheless.  It’s pretty uplifting, how into this Karkat is.

 

Once you finish shuffling you pick out a card, and then frown at it.  Loxodon Warhammer?  What even the hell is that?  Like, the warhammer part would be easy, you just would draw John with some empty inane grin on his face, wielding his dumbass weapon of choice, the Warhammer of Zillyhoo (well, okay, fine, that is also kind of Gamzee's weapon of choice, but at least Gamzee has actual clown credentials when he uses it).  Anyone could fucking get that, even Eridan.  But Loxodon?  What. The. Hell.  You flip the card over to show it.  

"Okay, first off, anything that involves stupid proper nouns like Loxodon is straight out.  Who could even draw that, do you even know what that is?"  Ampora opens his mouth and you suddenly realize that he probably does.  "You know what I mean."  You toss that card off to the area of the desk you have spontaneously designated the discard zone.  "Anyway."

Now you flip over the next card.  Pearled Unicorn, that's what it says right there on the card.  The card even gives a helpful illustration of a unicorn and you shudder a bit because the unicorn is illustrated on a grassy field with a fucking rainbow behind it and unpleasant thoughts about Gamzee and double unicorns flash through your thinkpan.  "Um, this is an okay card I guess," you concede.  "So how we play is this."  And you grab a piece of paper and proceed to draw the best fucking unicorn anyone in the universe have ever seen.  It's all like Equius up in here, it's that badass of a hoof beast.  "I'm going to draw you a unicorn, and obviously, you'll guess it's a unicorn right away.  But not so fast!"  You point to the word "Pearled" on the card.  "I gotta make you guess that word too."  So you kind of give Eridan the fundamentals of how to show there are two words, and how to like get him to guess pearls (you draw circles inside of a oyster) and then show him how to link the two ideas, which basically amounts to pointing back and forth between the pearl and the unicorn with forcefulness and rapidity.  "Pearl.  Unicorn.  Pearl.  Unicorn.  See?  I kind of think that's good enough, who the fuck is going to ever be all 'pearled' that isn't even something people say.   We have to show some fucking adaptability here."

Eridan is pretty much nodding along thoughtfully and interjecting little things that indicate that he understands, which is good since he had fucking better, you are a master explainer.  "Normally there are teams and there's a board and there's all this other stuff, but we're going to forget about all that shit.  Basically, you get a point if you guess it right, and you get zero points if you decide to give up."  You're just making shit up now, but these are good rules.  You like these rules.  "Obviously this only works if the person drawing is making a real honest effort to get things right so that's what we're going to do.  And that's it."

You hand over the deck to Ampora.  "Now, show me how you'll do it."  Better to have a trial run before the game actually starts, to make sure he really understands since sometimes Ampora can be a moron about things like rules.  "Talk me through your steps."

 

“Yeah, all right,” Eridan says, picking up the next card in the stack. 'Surestrike Trident', oh cod. Eridan smirks, thinking all he'd have to do was draw Fef's 2x3dent and that'd be it. Fuckin easy. Except Kar would probably get all bent outta shape over the 'Surestrike' bit. And it's not like Fef's 2x3dent gets used to actually strike things anyway, so he couldn't get Kar to guess that part very easily. Not like the thing's a 'Sure-cuttlefish-culler-except-actually-meanin-caretaker' or something. “Wwell, guess this one's out.” He reluctantly sets it into the discard pile and picks another card.

This one's better. It's just a basic land card; you really couldn't get any easier than that. “Right, so all I gotta do is get you to say island?” Eridan says, setting the card down so that Karkat can see. He draws his own island on the paper, complete with lighthouse and sailboat. “There. Island. Fuck, that wwas wway too easy, Kar; let me do another.”

He flips the next card over and nods, thinking it's a lot more of an actual challenge while still being easy enough. 'Rock Lobster'. Eridan's tongue pokes out his mouth as he concentrates on drawing a bloody brilliant-looking lobster. Okay, so then in front of the lobster he draws a rock. Then points from one to the other. “Rock. Lobster. Rock. Lobster. Howw's that, Kar?”

 

Okay, that was a _highly suspicious_ arrangement of cards there, what with the shared nautical theme and all.  You would basically be calling foul right now except you yourself were the one who shuffled the deck and so maybe it was just  an illustration of all your curses and misfortunes conspiring together to give Eridan a ridiculous and undeserved newbie's edge.  Or, perhaps, it just shows that Ampora's favorite deck is simply full of fish bullshit since he is that kind of a moron and oh well what can you do about that?  Nothing, that's what.

Still, there's plenty left to be irritated about.  Like, what was up with Ampora just flagrantly copying your pointing thing from rock to lobster and rock to lobster?  Was he actually making fun of you, god what a prick.  What a terrible, terrible prick.  This is why he has no friends, you remind yourself, which gives you a bit of a moment of self-satisfaction but that backfires since dude you are such a lamesauce sap and actually feel sorry for him about that and whatever, _you_ used to be (and maybe want to be again?) his friend and you have excellent taste in friends so clearly it's just that he's irritating like a FOX and you will have to put up with it just to show how you are way, way more awesome than him.  Stupid fishblood douchewad.

Feeling all and prickly and full of bristles, you take the next card and look it over.  Dispersal Shield is what it says and god what is this lame card game even about?  Like, you knew it was all magic and shit but this is a dumbass card, such a dumbass card, you hardly know what to do with yourself.  The shield part is obviously easy, you could draw shields in your awesome former-Prospit-dreamer sleep, but the dispersal part seems harder since that's kind of a vague word concept.  You get all frowny and down to business, huddling over your piece of paper with an air of deep seriousness.  You draw the shield, which Eridan guesses right off the bat as expected, and then bite your lip and work on 'dispersal.'  

You start drawing rifle fire, shooting out towards a circular target thingie, and then make note of all the little spots.  Disperse! you think at the paper, willing it to illustrate the dispersal concept.  Disperse!!!

 

“Kar, wwhat the hell evven is that?” Eridan says, pointing at the part of the paper Karkat is currently filling with little dots hitting some round-looking thing. That's a fuckin lot of little dots. He laughs a little, not derisively, just sincerely entertained by Kar stabbing the paper all over in his attempt at making Eridan understand what he's doing, over and over, til there are actual tiny holes poked in it. 

It's so entertaining, Eridan just lets him continue for a minute even after he realizes Kar's probably trying to make him guess the Dispersal Shield. There's a few shields in his deck, but the way Karkat keeps on making the tiny bullet specks go all over the damn place makes him think it's gotta be that one. “Shield.... Shootin. Bulletproof Shield. Fuck, Kar, take a deep breath an calm your sails... is it... nah, couldn't be... the Dispersal Shield?”

He grins at Karkat, waiting to see if that guess was the right one.

 

Aaaaaarrrgghhhh uuuuuuh yesss it is, dammit Ampora why do you have to have your entire fucking deck memorized?!   You crumple up the paper in your hands violently and then throw it down hard onto the desk and then pick it up again, and throw it down even harder onto the floor and then you go retrieve it so you can stuff the paper in your mouth and chew on it for some seconds while still holding it with both hands until you make it into a gross pulpy mess that appropriately illustrates all of your rrrraaagge fucking fuck Ampora that was so unfair, sick and unfair, but you have no one to blame but yourself since _you_ were the one who suggested using Ampora's own fucking stacked deck against yourself and why are you such a charitable and awesome moron, like, yeah okay you are never not awesome but you are _such a moron_ arrrrgghhhhhhhh god this whole game this whole game god why do you love this game so much, seriously it rules.

For a dark moment you consider taking that gross pulpy mess and stuffing Ampora's fishy face with your chewed up paper but no, you're way too suave for that kind of kindergarten Strider horseshit so after you pull the wet crap out of your mouth and stare at it for a minute, you sniffle a little and then stand up and ostentatiously dust yourself off and walk in a stately manner over to Ampora's garbage receptacle (which is modestly built into the wall like a garbage receptacle ought to be) and toss the paper into it.  "One point for you, yay congratulations.  This game is just getting started, though, _Eridan_."  You wipe off your slimy hand on Eridan's shoulder as you walk by him just for a little bit of much deserved bro-like vengeance and then sit yourself back down, all stately and proper and full of sick dark coolness, seriously who is as cool as you are?  Well, everyone, okay, but shut up that is not even the point.  "Your turn."

 

“Eww, gross, Kar! Havve a little respect for the vvestments,” Eridan whines, regarding his soiled shoulder with some disgust. His heart's not in it though, too amused by Karkat's tantrum and subsequent quieting to really be upset over anything. Watching Kar throw that paper around and then try to eat the fuckin thing was so worth a little drool on his clothes. “I thought I wwas supposed to guess wwhat you wwere drawwin right. Sorry for bein fuckin awwesome at this.”

He smiles all smug, pretty pleased with how this game is starting out. The next card he draws from the deck only widens his smile. Oh, this is gonna be good. The card itself is pretty cool on its own, but in the context of this game it's even better. Eridan knows exactly what he's going to draw to make Kar guess it. He knows it's going to set Kar off like a fuckin glorious firework of incandescent rage, but that's what he gets for dirtyin the duds.

'Moonlit Strider'. 

“Okay, Kar, you'll get this one easy,” Eridan says, taking up the pencil and a fresh sheet of paper. He draws a stick-figure human, then puts on those unmistakable shades. No way Kar won't guess who that's supposed to be. Then Eridan adds a nice crescent moon above Strider, with a few beam-lines coming off it for good measure. Add a few sparkles around Dave. Yeahhhh, that's a fuckin moonlit Strider right there, all baskin in that shit. He resists the urge to draw a Terezi stick-troll off to the side, all in awe of Dave's moonlit sparkles, 'cause that would just be upright mean.

“Wwell?” Eridan grins, showing off his mouthful of very sharp teeth. “Wwhat do you think, Kar? Havve any guesses as to the fuckin masterpiece I just dreww for you?”

 

Whaa?  What the fuck is Dave fucking Strider (or one of his ilk or various douchebag surrogates) even doing in this deck of Eridan's?  Also, what the hell is up with that moon, why is there a moon, that doesn't even make any sense, moons don't have jack-all to do with magic.  Maybe Eridan is fucking with you.  You glare at him pugnaciously, suspiciously, weighing his trustworthiness with your own ineffable bullshit meter, but fuck it all to fucking Alternia he seems to be playing this one straight somehow.  So that just makes you stare at the drawing some more, pulling the sketch over towards yourself and chewing on your lower lip relentlessly as you work on puzzling this fucking drawing out.  You'll get it if it fucking kills you.

After some time of brooding, you decide to employ your secret, flawless method of stepwise logistics.  So, like first there's a moon.  And there are these stupid ass moon beams, which if they relate to magic are probably some kind of cosmic magical teleportation device.  What is this fucking Magic the Gathering game about anyway?  Besides being bullshit designed for unsalvageable losers and magic fanboys?  If your impeccable logic has anything to say about it, probably it's some dumbass turn-based roleplaying game scenario.  Probably even uses lame Serket-styled dice, since Ampora used to wax pretty fucking obsidian for that spider psycho back in the day, and was the sort to latch onto games based on whether he thought that either Vriska or Feferi might want to play with him.  

Maybe it's a riddle?  It better the hell not be, since you clearly did not give any suggestions that riddling would be acceptable according to the rules, rules which you laid out perfectly and meticulously and which Eridan should therefore be following to the letter.  There was no bullshit about riddles in your amazing explanation that was so amazing that it went well beyond the levels of amazingness that Ampora even deserves.  You think more suspicious thoughts.  If the moon represents some allegorical source of magic, and there's mooning over Strider... "Moonlight magic romance?" you ask.  Fuck, is that it?  "Ampora, are you trying to tell me you have a crush on that douchebag?  Why does everyone except for me have a crush on him anyway?  I seriously don't fucking get it."

 

Eridan has been eagerly watching Karkat puzzling over his drawing, waiting for the moment he gets it (and thinking that whole chewing on his lip thing is pretty fuckin cute—adorabloodthirsty even; adorabloodthirsty for answers), so it's his turn to be utterly confused once Karkat starts guessing. He's so far off the mark, he's leagues off!

“Let's see,” Eridan ticks off on his fingers, “No.... no, an wwhat the bloody fuckin hell?”

Where does he even begin explaining? “Wwhere'd you get romance from anywway, Kar? I didn't evven draww any quadrant symbols in there...” Eridan points at his drawing, damn sure even the sparkles he drew couldn't be mistaken for hearts or diamonds or spades or even clubs. 

“An I wwouldn't anywway,” he continues, trying to cover up a bit of a jealous pout by haughtily lifting his nose at the Dave Strider stick staring smugly back at him from the page. “Seriously, evveryone's got a crush on him? Davve's cool an all, but he's not that cool.”

How fuckin unfair was that, that Dave could just have anyone he wanted since everyone had a crush on him? Well, anyone but John, which was kind of sad, but no longer really pitiful now that Eridan realized Dave could have every one of his quadrants filled if he wanted at any damn time.

“Anywway. Let me fix this.” Eridan takes his drawing and adds a lamp between the moon and Dave, then draws some arrows pointing down from the moon to the lamp to Dave. Maybe that'd get across the idea of moon LIGHT on fuckin Strider.

 

You snort.  "Adding in robots doesn't actually help, you know."

Eridan opens his mouth but you shush him with a mighty shoosh, waving your finger in front of his lips threateningly.  "Still guessing here.  I'll let you know when I need help.   _I'll_ ask the questions here, okay?"

How are you going to show off your ridiculously illegal Pictionary skills if you can't be allowed to show off your drawing interpreting process?  You snatch the picture back from Eridan and plop it down on the desk right in front of you again, and you hunker down, propping your chin onto your balled-up fists and going back to work.  Maybe some monologuing will help get the thinkpan juices flowing.  "Mooning is a human romance thing, Ampora," you say somewhat absently, nibbling at your bottom lip some more.  Maybe those little rays could be time beams or something.  "It's like, something that humans with amorous leanings do, they go outside and stare at the moon or some shit, it comes up in a lot of their dumb movies and other fictitious works."    

Your current physical posture isn't helping your thinking out at all.  You push the paper away from you and then cross your arms and slouch down in the chair even further, frown deepening.  Time beams would take care of the otherwise absolutely perplexing addition of Strider in here.  But fuck... is time even subject to being harnessed into a form of ranged-based weaponry that could be classified as "beams" to begin with?  You wouldn't fucking know.  But who cares, does it matter?  Imaginary wizards are not typically restrained by laws of fucking physics.

"Time beam douchewizard?" you guess finally, albeit a bit randomly and irritably.  Fuck, Magic the Gathering fucking _sucks_.  

 

That's his guess? Eridan is pretty sure Kar's not even havin him on; he's really serious about thinking 'time beam douchewizard' is a thing that this is. Fuck, he's cute when he's working things out, but he's really not good at this at all.

“Kar,” Eridan says, rubbing beneath the bridge of his glasses with his fingers, “I can't believve you think there's a fuckin Magic the Gatherin card called 'time beam douchewizard'. I also can't believve you think this human moonin romance thing is somethin in the game. An wwhat's more, howw is that a robot?”

He points a finger imperiously at his fine goddamn lamp drawing. Looks like it's time for him to really lead Kar through this thing or they'll be stuck on this one all fuckin night.

“Kar. Wwhat's this?” Eridan points at the moon, staring at Karkat and waiting for an answer.

 

Uh, wow.  Fucking hell?  You glare at the moon-illustration for a moment but what the fresh fuck?  Your eyes quickly dart from the moon back to Eridan's stupid fucking face and you're literally speechless, struck dumb by this utter incomprehensible _bullshit_ , and what's worse is you feel your face flush _hard_ with your ridiculous, awful mutant blood, and for a thrump-beat of your bloodpusher you just don't even know what to say, you Karkat fucking Vantas of the fucking glorious invincible fucking army of all things that are awesome in the world are struck totally mindfuckingly dumb.  Wow, fuck.  Seriously?  Fuck.  Really?   _Fuck_.

But that doesn't last long at all.  Kind of beside yourself, all dissociative-like, you find yourself standing up, and you raise your arms up into the air, fists clenched, and it's like there in only one word that perfectly encapsulates exactly what you are feeling at the moment, and that word is fucking 

"Aaaaaaaarrrrrgggghhhhfffffffuuuuuufffffffuuuuuuuuuarrrrghhhhhhhhhommmmmffffffffgggggffffff!!!" 

and you proclaim that fucking word with some truly vigorous shaking of your fists up towards the ceiling, while closing your eyes really fucking tight and basically moan-whine-screaming your way directly into next week which sort of feels kind of relieving, and like god you are _so_ fucking insulted, fucking Eridan fucking fishfuck fucking Ampora is seriously wanting to fucking school you in his stupid magic cards?  Well, excuse _you_ for not being some kind of ridiculous zen wizard master; god, this is exactly why Pictionary and fucking wizard card games should _not_ fucking mix whaaaaa you just seriously would enjoy strangling the fuck out of Eridan right now.  Fuck.  Fucking hell.  How even fucking dare he, this is beyond insulting.  You're like his fucking guest, and he's going to fucking hold your hand and walk you through this bullshit moon non-robot non-romance time spell and GEE FUCKING WHIZZ, EXCUSE YOU FOR NOT KNOWING ALL THE IMAGINARY BULLSHIT MAGIC THAT EVER WASN'T, YOU'RE DOING THE FUCKING BEST YOU CAN and aaaarrrrggghhhhhhh.

So, like, you pump your fists all douche-like at the ceiling for easily a minute, while basically continuing to inarticulately spit rage, and then abruptly you stop, sit your ass back down, and get back to business.  "That," you say with _extreme_ testiness, "is the fucking moon."

 

“... Holy fuckin shit, Kar,” Eridan murmurs, eyes wide. That's the second shitfit Karkat's thrown since they started playing this game, and while it was truly no less fuckin adorable this time, it's also made Eridan realize Kar's just as big a drama machine as he is—maybe an even bigger one! And that makes his bladder-based vascular system swell up all warm and full, 'cause it's another thing they have in common and can connect over. 

Eridan so wants to reach out and give Kar a pap on the shoulder or something, but... well. Kar might take it as a pale advance, and he's so riled up already that could be disastrous. 

“You okay?” he asks instead, and adds with a cautious smile, “An that's right on the mark; you're doin really wwell.”

Maybe he should just let Kar keep taking wild guesses, but Eridan can't leave well enough alone. He's got Karkat to guess this much; if he can just lead him a little further he might get this one. “So that's the moon, then wwhat's the moon givve off? An don't say beams 'cause it's not beams.”

 

'Cause it's not beams, he says.  Cause it's not beams, says the epic master of science and bullshit, Prince Eridumbass of House Slytherfin of Fuckwarts School of Fuckcraft and Wizardfuckery.  

Flash tantrums have a useful refractory period and this is good because otherwise you'd go into status tantrumlepiticus, and who the fuck knows what would happen to you or Eridan or Eridan's entire fucking island if that were the case.  Probably you'd pretty much chew the entire lighthouse down to the ground, to start.  Silently, stonily, you huff out several heavy, coarse breaths, and you just sort of stare and struggle to collect yourself in the face of fresh, unbelievably worse and awful insults that you know fuck well are pretty much intended to be conciliatory, you can read it in Eridan's concerned, cautious expression, and it's like ahhh, you see, why the hell not, you can play that game too.  "Bullshit," you say in a totally controlled and not-insane-at-all way.  "The moon gives off bullshit.  And, oh, possibly that mysterious legendary fucking substance called 'moonlight,' I suppose."

Your voices comes off pretty damn stormy and prickly, but you bite back some harsher words since this is Eridan you're talking to and you've always dealt with him carefully, in your own way.  As long as he's not falling apart, you can kind of handle his stupidly brazen condescending bullshit, and actually... you still feel all bothered and annoyed all over... well, this kind of asshole cordiality thing you're demonstrating here is a lot nicer than you _usually_ behave towards douchebags, and he'd better fucking appreciate it, you don't go off into inarticulate blackouts of higher cognition with just anyone, after all.  

"I mean," you amend grimly, clipping your words even more curtly but trying to be vaguely gentle about it all the same.  Your cheeks remain stubbornly warm.   You decide to make one more probably pathetic but secretly awesome stab at the answer.  Team Karkat does not go down without a fight.  "Moonlight douchebag?"

 

"That's so fuckin close, Kar!” Eridan grins at Karkat. In fact, it's so damn close it's close e-fuckin-nough; pushing Kar to call Strider anything other than 'douchebag' right now is probably not going to go over very well. “The card wwas 'Moonlit Strider', an that's basically wwhat you just said, so you get a point for it.”

He moves to take the drawing and toss it in the trash, but then reconsiders and offers it to Karkat instead. “Wwant to demolish the douchebag drawwin? So long as you don't go wwipin that shit on my clothes again I mean.”

 

You grab the drawing, but you also grab the Moonlight Strider discard as well, since you have to verify this unbelievable bullshit with your own eyes.  The card is not helpful at all in illustrating the concept: apparently a Moonlight Strider is a giant brain on monstrous robot legs, and even the moonlight part about it doesn't make a single lick of sense since you would be willing to wager all of the boonbucks you ever squandered that a giant fucking mutant brain would not give off moonlight.  By definition, it would give off fucking _brainlight_.  

But strangely enough, this kind of makes you feel better for not getting it.  You see better now what kind of fucking fancifully illogical game you are dealing with, and so you decide not to berate Ampora after all for sticking with this card to begin with, despite the fact that you clearly specified _no proper nouns_ to begin with, because, hey, you always knew that Ampora was a rules-ignoring moron and besides he gave you the point anyway.

In fact, now that you know for sure that _this_ is how Ampora's going to play it, your mood kind of lifts and you're all like, well, okay there's no point in mentally gripping and trying to employ the entire vastness of your mad Pictionary skills with him anymore, he's not even worthy of them, so you might as well just have fun and play it silly and whatever, the most fun parts for you anyway are when you get to draw shit.  You always end up drawing the most amazing shit.

So you grab the pencil, write "moonlight douchebag" on Ampora's retarded and inferior drawing, and then look up at Ampora, mirroring his grin.  "Nah.  Got some tape?  Let's tape this masterpiece up on the wall."

 

Eridan nods and pulls open a drawer in his desk, taking out a fresh roll of tape for Karkat. “Havve at it; you can put it up wwherevver you wwant.”

His own shitty stick-figure drawings are not something Eridan usually puts up in his room, but this one's different. This one can be a reminder of this game and his time spent with Kar today. Later when he's alone again, he'll have the moonlight douchebag as proof that he and Kar had fun together, here in this new world.

“Then after that it's your turn to draww again, Kar.” That grin is still on Eridan's face, not going any damn where soon. “Don't go easy on me an don't eat the fuckin paper if I guess it this time; I wwant some a your epic drawwins up on my wwall too.”

 

Huh, well, yeah... of course he does!  Your drawings are way more epic than Eridan's so after a brief moment of surprise you decide that it makes complete sense that he wants a few of yours too.  You go over and tape Eridan's picture right near the head of his recuperacoon so that it'll be the first thing that he sees when he wakes up, mostly because you know that he'll want _your_ art to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up too, and your art will only shine even more in comparative quality to his, making it seem all the more awesome.  Personally you think all your friends would have better lives if they woke up to pictures of your art but it appears that Eridan is going to be the first one to actually get this epic honor.  

You leave the tape over there, in fact, to make it clear that you're going to make a whole little gallery.  You are chuckling to yourself a bit gleefully when you go back to sit down in Eridan's shitty desk chair, since Eridan doesn't even know how much more awesome his life is going to be from now on, with your art in it, but you're not going to say so right now, you'll let him discover this epic fact for himself.  It's pretty much a prank if you do it that way. 

Your sense of glee sours a bit as you go back to the task at hand and start looking through the deck, since you have to discard about five cards for various levels of inappropriateness, but that sense of glee does not entirely diminish.  You finally settle on a card that happens to be nautical themed, but like three of the cards you tossed were also nautical themed so it would be pointless to hold out for things that aren't: the card you end up with is Merfolk Looter, which ha ha pretty much describes all of Eridan's past life, but you're going to be cool and better than Eridan and not draw any sort of Eridan stick figures, since you're better than that bullshit.

First, you draw a mer-troll instead.  You make it very clear that this is _not_ Eridan by making said mer-troll have a very curvaceous body with sea-shell supports and a super fishy tail and you also draw her sitting on a rock since Little Mer Troll was like, your favorite cartoon movie ever as a wiggler.  Sebastian was basically your hero.

 

The fact that the tape stayed over where Kar put up the first picture sure hasn't escaped Eridan's notice; not that he really wants to look at the fuckin cool kid every time he wakes up, but if more drawings are going near it he can just give it a passing glance and then focus on whatever this is Kar's drawing now...

What is this? Eridan leans in close to Karkat, trying to get a better view of the weird-looking seadweller Kar's apparently sketching out on the paper. There's a whole lot of aquatic-based cards in Eridan's deck here, so it's not like it's immediately obvious which this one might be from what Kar's giving him to go on.

“Is... Kar, is that a little mer-Fef?” He gives Karkat a sort of troubled, questioning look. He guesses if Kar's going to draw a mer-troll, Fef's the natural choice. What was that story about again? Been a while since Eridan’s seen it. A little mer-troll who fell in love with a prince or something? …Fef has her prince and it's not him; Kar wouldn't be that mean to go reminding him of that in the middle of a supposed-to-be-fun game. Maybe it's something to do with the spell the sea-witch put on the girl? Didn't she lose her voice? Eridan wracks his thinkpan for aquatic Magic cards involving love spells or enchantments that would take away a player's ability to do something, or a creature or some instant maybe that involved singing. “Are you tryin to draww Alluring Siren? Or Siren's Call maybe?”

 

Oh shit, Feferi.  God you completely forgot that this douche would jump straight to Feferi even when it was clearly not Feferi at all, see, you drew her with shells and everything.  Feferi wouldn't ever be caught dead in those shells, which you know because she told you herself and giggled about it.  Once upon a time, back when you and she were both bonding over your shared love of that movie.  You pout.  "It's just a generic mer-troll, and I don't even know what those cards are you are talking about at all."

You look down at your awesome drawing.  Totally awesome.  If only you could draw the little mer-troll's super awesome crab best friend too, but you guess that is pointless if Eridan's already guessed mer-troll which you figure is good enough to stand in for merfolk.  

But no matter.  You go back to work, deciding to get over your pout with some badass artistic virtuosity in the form of a sketch of a pirate ship, drawing a nice little round-based hull and then a line for the deck and then some more lines for the masts.  You think there are probably like fifty masts on a pirate ship, so you draw them too, each with a big billowed-out sail which you helpfully decorate with lots of skull-beast faces complete with death horns.  "I just didn't want you to think it was you when I drew..."  You flourish your drawing in front of Eridan's face after you finish it off by putting in a tiny stick figure on the foredeck, holding what are clearly sacks of gold in his fists.  "...this!"

 

For a moment, all Eridan can do is stare at Karkat's ridiculous but fuckin awesome rendering of a pirate ship—that is so what that is, and that there on the deck, presiding all captain-like with spoils in hand, yeah no way that's just a generic troll pirate. Laughter bubbles up out of Eridan til he has to wipe at the corners of his eyes just to keep looking at the drawing unobscured by mirthful violet tears. “That,” he points at the tiny stick-captain, “is so me, Kar, wwhy are you evven tryin to deny it?”

And now he's pretty sure he knows which card it is that Karkat's got, putting two and two together with the generic mer-troll and the bloody bitchin pirate ship complete with a captain carrying all that pirate loot. If it'd just been the pirate ship, it would have been more of a guess, but there's only so many mer-related piratey cards in his deck.

“I'm the fuckin merfolk looter. It is fuckin ME.” He tosses a stray shiny coin Karkat's way, grinning his smug face off. “I got all the levvels an captured all the treasure!”

 

Hmmph.  You go ahead and snatch Eridan's douchey gold coin and pocket it, mostly so that Eridan doesn't have _all_ the treasure anymore, and then stand up and go over to tape up the picture right next to the other one.  It is seriously so not Eridan that you drew, but the point is not worth arguing about, especially when everyone knew that actually all the levels were fucking Serket's and besides only losers care about dumb levels anyway and that's why you never actually played dumb RPing games.

"Hmmph," you say out loud, upon returning to the table.  Ungraciously, you push the deck towards Eridan, but you can't help but smile a little, wryly, at Eridan's stupid fucking fish face all lit up with unwarranted gloating.  You have to admit that happy Eridan is like seventy trillion times more palatable and less annoying than whiny Eridan.  "Your turn, mer-troll."

 

Yeah, right there by the other drawing; that's exactly the best spot for Karkat's mer-troll and pirate ship. Eridan watches happily as it goes up, and is even fuckin happier to note Kar isn't denying it's him in that drawing. He's happier than he ever thought possible, but somehow that little wry smile Karkat gives him pushes him over some happiness brink that makes his digestion sac do a weird flip. A little ridiculously, he wonders if maybe all this unaccustomed happiness is actually making him sick. But... no, he's felt like this before. Around Fef. A long time ago.

Well, interesting and nervous-nausea-inducing as that is, Eridan's going to keep all his ridiculous feelings to himself for now; no need to jeopardize a perfectly good game of Magic Pictionary with pretty certainly unwelcome red stirrings. Because yeah, god fuckin damn it, that's what's going on. No sense denying it to himself; he can agonize over it later when Kar's safely gone.

Drawing another card is a good enough distraction for now. Still smiling, Eridan draws a few cards, setting aside quite a few that he thinks will frustrate Kar more than necessary. Luckily the fourth card he draws is absolutely perfect. It's just about the easiest damn card to draw and guess in the whole deck, as far as Eridan is concerned.

“Right, this time I swwear it'll be easier than last time,” Eridan says as he puts pencil to paper. If Kar doesn't guess 'Giant Spider' within just a few tries, Eridan'll eat his fuckin scarf. Well, not literally, but it's a good turn a phrase.

A great big spider gets sketched onto a fresh page, big round fuzzy body with a multitude of creepy eyes and eight long legs. Eridan regards it for a moment, rubbing his chin. It's taking up about half the page, but is that big enough? Maybe if he shows some scale... He adds in a tiny Vriska-stick next to it, mostly identifiable by her stick-horns, and then turns the whole thing toward Karkat.

 

Whoa, that's some giant-ass spider right there.  You look at it for a moment and then it's back to eyes on Eridan.  He's still smiling, still in some kind of weird and silly happy mode, and it's probably the goofiest smile you've ever seen contaminate his face, as if all his irons were in a tangled web of flaming fire and he had aaaaaaaall the luck and shit Serket is so fucking annoying it's like her personality is some kind of viral meme that just stupidly takes over the minds of intelligent people everywhere, such as yourself, and you decide to cleanse your thinkpan by douching it up with legislacerator bullshit instead.

"His Honorable Tyranny rejects this excessively propagandistic piece of spider bullshit, mer-troll," you say, and like Eridan's smile is stupidly infectious and so your own smile widens, even though it stays nice and wry because you are awesome like this.  "Whatever this shit card is, you are ordered to draw it more symbolically, without any giant-ass spiders ruining His Honorable Tyranny's appetite for his second afternoon snack consisting of five dozen kittens."

 

“Are you fuckin wwith me, Kar?” Eridan asks, laughing incredulously. Karkat even pretty much just said the card's name already, except not really giving it as a guess. He's got to be fuckin with him. How the hell is Eridan supposed to draw a giant spider more symbolically? ...But it's pretty damn cute the way Kar's messing around, smile even bigger than before. So Eridan's going to humor him, just to keep that smile on his face. “I mean, your Honorable Tyranny. 'Scuse me.”

He shakes his head and flips the paper over to try drawing the Giant Spider in a less obvious way. “I'm not promisin it'll be easy anymore; in fact it's gonna be bloody fuckin hard noww. For both of us.” 

For a long minute, Eridan just stares at the page, trying to think up a way to symbolically render a spider. Spider... spi-der. Spy. ...Dirk?

Fuckin good enough. It's not exactly symbolic, but it's the best he can come up with to do that's not just drawing another spider-looking thing. Eridan's no goddamn artist here.

So first he draws something that might pass for a spy. Maybe. It's some troll in a trenchcoat and a hat, with dark glasses and he's, like, peeking through a window with binoculars or something. God, it really looks terrible. 

Then he makes a plus sign, and draws his rendition of that Dirk guy. Dude with a hat on his shirt and pointy glasses. Looks like Striders all up in this game.

“Wwell... you fuckin asked for it, your Honorable Tyranny.”

 

Hm.  You could get really used to being called that, it has a certain ring.  In your tyrannical role of superbadassery, you snatch the drawing from Ampora's fingers, and set it down in front of you, in some kind of weirdly entirely gleeful mode which pretty much only comes over you when all the people around you are completely catering to your whims and respecting your fate-hatched authority.  " _Now_ we're pirating with petrol," you say, sticking out your tongue and getting your contemplation on.

Ahaha that was another humanism.  You're so great with human phrases, you really are.  Now, just look at this fuck Ampora drew for you.  The first part looks pretty much like it's a stalker which goes along with the whole spider thing actually, since Serket was like a mind stalker.  "Here," you point to the goings-on in Eridan's crap drawing, "is some seriously impudent illegality.  High-blood shenanigans, probably having to do with spider wizards.  Horrible."

Now you point to the rendering of that other cool douche, Strider Two.  "Here, this is obviously the spider wizard's target, a young moron sent directly from Earth to cut down all the webs.  It's illicit interspecies blackrom in the making.  Scandalous."

"So what does this all add up to?"  You raise your hands in a Terezi-like gesture of who the fuck knows?  "The court is baffled.  His Honorably Tyranny is baffled!  But!  The mer-troll knows what it is!"  You point to Eridan.  "Time to put the mer-troll on the stand!"

But then you stop yourself suddenly.  What.  The fuck.  Are you even doing.

Did you just suddenly and spontaneously break out into fucking _LARPing_?

Just like that, you deflate, smile faltering in favor of turning into a slightly ugh-like self-hate face, which you improve by slumping over and banging your head a few times, softly, against Eridan's desk.  Thank god Terezi did not witness that totally terrible and ridiculous display of you pretending to be just like her.  Fuck.  Okay, sure, she just licks that shit up, and would say it was adorable and hug you and crap, but you know full well that it's stupid embarrassing shit like this that you can't abide, not in anyone and especially not in yourself, and why the hell did you let yourself get carried away?  Were you showing off?  Are you showing off?

Ugh.  Ugh.  Ugggghhhhh.  "That was so lame," you moan annoyedly at yourself.  "Mer-troll?  Bluh.  Pretend that never happened."

 

“Aww, Kar, don't stop noww; I didn't get to givve my expert testimony yet.” Eridan's got a bit of a disappointed, pleading pout on his face now. It was fun watching Kar get all into LARPing Terezi-style like that. It's a side of him Eridan's never gotten to see before... and maybe that's why Kar's all embarrassed; maybe it's just something he does with his matesprit. And that person's Ter, not Eridan. And now he feels like kind of an asshole for bothering him to keep going with it.

Eridan rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed himself to be saying this. “I thought your Honorable Tyranny wwas on a fuckin nice roll there, wwith the highblood shenanigans an buddin blackrom wwith the slicin Strider kid. It wwas cute, Kar. An more interestin than wwhat's on the actual card.”

He gives Karkat an awkward smile. “I kinda think it deservves twwo points added to your tally. If His Honorable Tyranny wwill alloww it?”

 

See?  Cute.  Even fucking _Eridan_ thinks so.  But still, you turn your head so that it's your cheek on the desk and you can look up at Eridan, smiling wanly and depleted of all glory.  You can't be His Honorably Tyranny now.  "No, any legislacerator worth her salt would utterly shank me for taking extra points," you admit, although of course Terezi wouldn't literally shank you, not like she does with her scalemates: no, instead, she would just like pap you hard over the face or something and then poke at you for a while with her cane.

For a moment you just stay like that, looking up at Eridan.   

Before the moment can get too long and you'd feel awkward about it, slowly you push yourself up, sitting up and grabbing the deck.  "I'll for sure take the one point, though," you say, with a nice flash of sharp teeth, and a 'let's pretend that never happened' shrug complete with a slightly sheepish (but also awesomely predatorial) smile.  "It was a fucking performance all right."  You sort of grumble a little, for effect, as you go through the cards and discard like 14 before finding one you want to draw.  

The one that you decide would not be too horrible is called Grinning Demon and according to the card it has some truly repulsive powers: 'it's drawn to the scent of screaming.'  Like, wow, does screaming even have a scent?  That sounds like a lot of stupid bullshit.

But enough of that.  You start drawing your stupid denizen, who Eridan never even saw but oh well, all of the denizens looked basically the same anyway, all snakey and stuff.  Once you're done, you give it a demented Gamzee-like grin.  Perfection.  "Try that," you say, handing it over for Eridan's evaluation.

 

Eridan regards Karkat's new drawing uneasily, though like hell he's going to let it show. That thing looks disturbingly like one of the hideous final fuckin bosses on their worlds in the game. Only kind of terrifyingly happy instead of terrifyingly angry and murderous, like his own denizen was when he finally faced off against it. That was after he'd already massacred all the fuckin angels... suffice it to say that thing wasn't too happy to see him.

Right... well, there's a few cards in Eridan's deck that he thinks might resemble a horrorterror like that. But it seems like Kar more enjoys it when he guesses off-the-wall shit, so Eridan smiles and leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he says, “Obvviously that's a sandwworm from that troll Beetlejuice movvie. Can't pull one ovver on me so easy.”

 

Ha!  Disgustingly inaccurate!  Although you know the sandwworms he is talking about, and the movie, since you kind of loved "Idiot ghost matesprits who need a manual on being recently deceased and who end up having to defend their hive from a creepy girl troll and her offensive guardian lususes, and the ghost matesprits are such idiot tools that they hire pretty much the most retarded bio-exorcist who ever didn't live, but who had certain wiles and who almost traps the girl troll into an eternal matespritship that is basically based on being stupid, plus there was a scene where everyone dances like fucking morons" and okay this is sort of you paraphrasing the title, but who cares that was a pretty good movie and it surprises you that Eridan actually liked a good movie, once.  You're quite sure it was only once.

"Wrong," you say, being sure to gloat about it.  It's great that he's wrong, Eridan being wrong is much more in line with the natural order of things.  "But not totally wrong since it is in the same genre and species of imaginary bullshit that magic is all about.  So let me show you this," and you draw an equals-sign next to your grossly grinning denizen.  Who or what else is a demon, in your fucking expert opinion?  Well, setting aside like Gamzee and Serket and Ampora himself, since no tears or wobbly feelings from Ampora!  Wibbly Eridumbass feelings are completely not allowed.  Following the equals-sign, you draw a badass demon of the most demonic type: that fucking gross puppet that you hate, Cal.  "This asshole is doing a thing and this asshole also _is_ the thing.  Fucked up, huh?"

 

“Kar, I havve no idea howw you managed to make this drawwin evven more terrifyin than it already wwas, but you did it. Con-fuckin-gratulations. That takes some talent.” There is a look of actual disgust on Eridan's face now as he regards the creepy grinning worm thing and the creepy fuckin puppet asshole. 

The fuck does Kar mean, it is a thing and it's doing a thing? What it's doing is being as fuckin creepy as goddamn possible. “Okay, it's, uh, starin? An it's a fuckin monster.... Lingerin Tormenter? Wwhat I wwanna knoww is, does that thing evver fuckin die? It's just gonna keep followwin us for all eternity.” Eridan's pretty sure that Dirk guy's got that evil puppet thing even in this new world.

 

Wrong, _and_ creeped out.  Could any reaction on Eridan's part be more perfect?  You doubt it.  "No, it's like Dave's bro's bro or some fucking shit that I don't even want to contemplate," you say, and you're all puffed up with awesomeness, bone bulge metaphorically jutting out and dominating Swims With the Fishes here with goddamn awesomeness, he might as well get down on his hands and knees and kiss your toes because you're basically the best and Eridan can't even fucking deny it: well, he can try, but he would humiliatingly fall down and stab himself on some gnarly overwrought and complicated metaphor that didn't even go anywhere except right back to your fucking bone bulge of awesomeness.  Ha!  

"But yeah it's creepy as fuck right?  Just like... a _thing_.  Which is doing... a _thing_."  You grin, awfully, and point at your creepy awful grin like a motherfucker made entirely of I Rule.  "See?"

 

Okay, Karkat being all proud of himself for stumping Eridan is damn cute, but that's kind of overshadowed by the upright creepiness of that horrible rictus grin he's wearing. If he wasn't so genuinely creeped the fuck out, Eridan would say something flippant like, 'Are wwe playin fuckin charades as wwell as magic pictionary noww?' But honestly he's kind of glad Kar's decided to beat him over the head with the hints, because now he thinks he's got a decent guess as to the answer and nothing is going to stop him from finishing this creepiness off now.

“Oh god Kar, that is so fuckin creepy just stop wwill ya? Stop wwith the grinnin—I mean, this creepy grinnin, not like your normal smile wwhich is actually really nice, or any a your other smiles, evven your fake smile like you wwant to mean it but don't really—an oh god just—is it, ” Eridan's rambling and he knows it, sort of half covering his face with his hand as he spits out his guess, “is it Grinnin Demon? Is it Grinnin Demon, please say it is Kar evven if it's not; I kinda wwant to be done wwith this drawwin noww.”

 

You don't stop with the grinning, that would be impossible with how you are feeling right now, because even though Eridan only got the answer with his obviously cheaterish advantage of having his deck memorized, it sure took him long enough this time even though you gave him the best clues, clues that were absolutely pristine in their glory.  The grin you are wearing does, however, turn back into one of your more normal ones, pretty gleeful actually, and you feel great and aren't even embarrassed anymore about your dumb accidental foray into LARPing which as far as you are concerned didn't actually happen, it was a collective delusional figment of both of your imaginations and the less you dwell on that the better.

Graciously (and because he earned it), you grant Eridan the point.  "Yeah, that's it.  But you're not going to be done with this drawwin, that's impossible, because right this second, it's going on the wall.  Where it will live... for all of time!!!"  You stand up, picture in hand, to walk over to tape up the picture, still overcome with smug triumphant Karkatian grins of awesomeness.

 

“Kar, no! I really, I mean fuckin REALLY, don't wwant to look at that evvery damn mornin! I see enough horrorterrors in my sleep; I don't wwant to havve to deal wwith one starin back at me wwhenevver I wwake up!” Even as Eridan speaks, he's up and going for Karkat, ready to do just about anything to prevent that bloody scary picture from being hung up right next to his fuckin recuperacoon. That's a sanctuary of rest, not a nightmare factory.

Eridan makes a grab for Karkat's waist, wrapping his long arms around him and then digging his heels in to keep him from making it to the tape and the wall with the abominable drawing. “Givve it here,” he says, reaching out with one arm to swipe at the drawing Karkat's still clutching.

 

What?  What?  What?  No, seriously, what?  One second you were traipsing across Eridan's room all proud and victorious and the next minute he's scrumming with you like some fucklord of petulance and issues, like, _wow_.  Out of reflexive principle, you raise the picture higher, as high as you can above your head, which is gonna be hard for His Royal Fuckwit to get from you easily while uncomfortably clawing at your stomach.  "Fuck, Eridan!" you say, looking down with something like dismay and superb well-honed annoyance, ready to notch that shit up as high into 'fussed' territory as you fucking need to go, because, shit.  "Fuck Eridan, what the hell?"

Predictably, within a moment he's dragging you down, going down on his knees and using his whiny highblood strength (which is fucking more than yours, _unfair_ ) to drag you down too, which however does not go without a fight because besides holding the picture high you continue to attempt to walk towards the destination wall and the victory tape, and you're dragging Eridan along with you for a few preposterous steps, and you make all sorts of squirmy and get-away motions but all that does is eventually get you to trip, and down you go, right to the floor, with Eridicklord now able to claw his way up your body and get at that fucking picture and there's only one thing you can think of to do, although it's arguable you're even thinking when you do it: you stuff the drawing into your mouth.

So chewing on shit is your thing, okay?  You do that a lot and it's basically a reflex.  Victory lost, but shit that doesn't mean the fight needs to stop now that it got going.  At least now your hands are free and so you use them to grab at the sides of Eridan's stupid head, not going for his horns because ewww, no sexy nonsense, and also you don't go for his fins since they look kind of delicate and you don't want to rip them with your claws even though that might temporarily be a very satisfying thing to do.  So you are like pressing on the sides of his head to keep him from getting away and chewing the fuck out of that art and basically you know how this is going to end, with you spitting that shit in his face because like it's destiny.  "Mmmmrrrrmmmgggghh" you inarticulately growl at him, all spittle and annoyance.  Mmmmrrrmmmgggghh indeed!

 

The moment they went down to the ground, Eridan felt the tides were turning and he'd get that picture if it was the last thing he did. Then Karkat ruined that plan... by stealing the destruction of the drawing right out from him! 

All the fight goes out of him as the scariest drawing ever gets chewed to a nasty pulp in Karkat's glorious mouth. Now instead of fighting, Eridan lets Kar hold his head in place and just watches with a rather silly-looking grin of gratefulness spreading across his face. His eyes scrunch up and go all soft somehow at the same time, and without thinking he snakes both his arms back around Karkat's middle in a sort of awkward hug. “Kar... you're the fuckin best. Evven I couldn't havve done a better job a getting rid a that picture. Cheww it up real fuckin good.”

And okay, the drool and spit are pretty damn gross, but wwhatevver. Battle fuckin won.

 

Ugh.  Like, really, ugh!  So.  Fucking.  Bossy.  You basically ignore the fuck out of Eridan and close your eyes and chew that paper up fuckin good but not because Eridan said so, oh no.  You were going to fucking do that anyway!  But now you're just going to do it longer and that paper is going to be fucking _pulp_ by the time you're finished.  You notice Eridan's arms around your body and okay that's kind of a little invasively touchy and not really welcomed at this moment of pure, pure rage, but whatever Eridan was always kind of excessively clingy and so it hardly even registers while you are focused on creating as much spit as possible to make the most soppy mess of paper-mache you can make and probably at the end of all this maybe you'll make a scalemate statue out of it, who knows.

It's nice that Eridan said you're the best, though.  Like, it's the least he could do after all that fucking outrageousness he engaged in, but well, Eridan doesn't usually do the least he can do, he's more the sort to do all sorts of unnecessary and tangential and actively counter-appropriate bullshit and so saying something so evidently truthful like pointing out how great you are is just... well, he should say that kind of shit more often, you really think so, okay.

Eventually and as customary, your rage subsides, unable to keep its form or strength in the grip of your over-the-top rage-processing, like some kind of factory line of rage compaction that turns it into tiny little squares of disposable rage ready to go to the rage dump of recyclable fury.  Your desire to spit that shit into Eridan's smug face similarly subsides, and so eventually you get to point where you don't want this crap in your mouth, and sort of bluh it out, allowing that stuff to sort of drip to the floor, which leaves you with a spit-and-pulp wet face.  It's the most natural thing in the world for you to lean forward and wipe your face off on Eridan's royal pain-in-the-ass cheek, using his face and lips as a towel ahaha so gross, take that.

"There," you say.  "You win.  Happy?"

 

Oh, that is the most DISGUSTIN thing to have happened to Eridan's face in a long time, ugh, bluh, pfflfllbbttt, GROSS. Eridan scrunches up his whole face while trying to glare at Karkat at the same time, simultaneously pulling his face away and pushing at Karkat's body to disentangle them so he can wipe furiously at all the wet goopy nastiness on his face. 

Still, he can't be too mad at Kar. The drawing is well and completely destroyed now. So Eridan gives his face one more good swipe clean with his own hand and nods. “Yeah. At least you didn't get any a your sloppy slobbery drool on my clothes this time.” He glances over at the pile of wet paper goo on the floor. “But that's just fuckin nasty, Kar.”

Eridan gets to his feet, dusting himself off, making sure to brush whatever he can over toward Karkat. “Guess I'd call that a wwin for you too, if your goal wwas to gross me the hell out,” he says, offering a hand.

 

You take Eridan's hand and let him help you up, but you turn your head to look down at the floor as you are in the process of being helped up, down at what Eridan was making faces at, aka your mess, and it's true, it's nasty like a small wet paper-mache turd just sitting in the middle of the floor.  "That wasn't why," you say, distracted.  "But if you want to say I win I won't say no..."   

Maybe you won't attempt to make a scalemate out of the paper mess after all.  Soooo gross.  You are definitely not cleaning that up.

Anyway, after you're standing you let go of Eridan's hand as fast as possible because you are allergic to Eridan cooties, or at least, you're pretty sure that's why you need to let go so fast.  Gotta be cooties, and not... other reasons.  That doesn't stop you, however, from stepping to stand right up in front of him, grinning up at him all grimly and sort of darkly and with a not-entirely-unserious air of threat about you, because even though your good mood has been restored via the act of chewing, that still doesn't change the fact that Eridan is still totally an ass and he needs to be made aware of this.  "I thought you _wanted_ my art on your wall, Eridan," you point out, totally righteously and being very clear to sound offended even though you're not especially offended, that had been kind of a shitty picture after all, definitely not your best work.  "Just because you were unnecessarily creeped out by my drawin- er drawing- doesn't mean you can just attack me out of the blue, that's just rude."

 

He said drawin. That's actually the second time he's said drawin, just like Eridan, just like his own verbal tic. Kind of makes his insides do that flopping thing again, even as the rest of Kar's scolding words and demeanor make his fins and cheeks burn violet with shame. “I do wwant your art on my wwall, Kar, but I told you not the creepy one. An you wwent to put it up anywway; howw's that for bein rude!” He scowls and gets all up in Karkat's face, not about to back down now. “An I wwasn't attackin you, just prevventin you from givvin me dream terrors the rest a my life.”

And okay, that prevention may have gotten a little physical, and maybe a bit out of hand. Which probably was not the best way to handle things, especially with their bro-ness still hanging kind of precariously in the balance, Eridan has to admit. He may have let himself get carried away since it felt like old times, better than old times, playing with Kar. But he has to remind himself Kar's not feeling the same things he is. Eridan might actually have crossed a line there.

After an awkward moment of staring Karkat down, he takes a step back and awkwardly scratches behind one aural fin, looking away. “Sorry for offendin you, Kar. It wwon't happen again. Can wwe call it a draww an forget about fighting?”

 

Soooooo overdramatic.  It's tempting to roll your eyes.  Like, if it was really that terrorizing, couldn't Eridan just take down the picture the moment you left?  None would be the wiser.  Even when-- if-- you came back, you probably would have forgotten all about it especially if Eridan had rearranged the pictures in a strategic way so that it wasn't like a gallery with a picture missing or anything obvious like that.  Or he could have just, you know, asked you first, instead of going directly for the lunge (and the kill).  Thinking about that makes you unhappy because you don't like it that Eridan has this horrible hair-trigger reaction reflex since it makes him, as Kanaya would say, dangerous, and he doesn't really have to be dangerous he's the most whiny and stupidly emotionally over-invested wiggler you've ever met.  

There's a bit of an odd uncomfortable thump of your blood pusher as you contemplate this, especially when Eridan actually backs off and looks regretful.  If your picture had the potential to be legitimately terrifying and he wasn't just being an unbelievable whiny wiggler about it, of course he was just going to go off the rails and overreact, dangerous or not, and you already _know_ this about him.  

It's too bad there are things you feel bad about, re: Eridan.  It's not pity or anything, god, but those 'feeling bad' feelings are pretty much permanent, predicated on your respective reversals of fortune.   Slowly, you nod.  Yeah, it can be a draw.

Should you mention that you're not especially offended, though?  You decide to let him continue to think so, it's better for him that way.  But ahh-- you sigh, since this is troublesome.  You should make up with him before he gets super emo and starts whimpering and this turns into an awful visit.  "I have an idea," you say, all casual-like as if it just occurred to you even though secretly this had been one of your prospective planned projects ever since deciding to come visit.  "Let's take a break with Pictionary, I want to draw up a shipping grid anyway.  Like the old days.  You can put that up instead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to make a quick note that the reason it's taking time between posting chapters, even though we've got lots written already, is that we're taking the time to edit things. So sorry for the wait but that's why. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a shipping grid is filled out in _detail_ , polyamory is a _thing_ , hope is awakened, and feelings are discussed... and not discussed.

Eridan's eyes snap back to Karkat the moment he mentions a shipping grid, his expression immediately brightening. Like the old days. And he gets to keep it. 

Oh hell, there go his vascular pumps all expanding at once again, making him feel too warm and too light and too full. Stupid. It's just a sort of truce kind of thing, not a bro thing, and definitely not a flushed thing like he's fuckin for sure not dumb enough to hope for. No fuckin way, god damn it; he should stop even thinking about it.

“Yeah, wwe can do that. I'd like that a lot,” Eridan says, heading back to his seat at the writing desk and promptly starting in on making a nice fresh grid. “You're gonna havve to fill it in mostly though; I'vve been kind of out of the loop for a wwhile noww. I don't knoww really wwho's goin for whom anymore.”

That's all right though; Kar's an expert on this stuff, and he's always got the best gossip. Eridan should be caught up in no time. And of course, even not knowing all the details isn't going to stop him making comments.

 

You're relieved-- honestly, even more relieved than you expected to be-- when Eridan falls right in with this plan and embraces it wholeheartedly, even going so far as to prepare the grid himself. Now, you yourself make shipping grids of the highest perfection, using a ruler and everything, but Eridan has always had the habit of doing them freestyle, making lines without using any sort of edging device at all. That automatically makes his grids inferior to yours, but you don't care since drawing the grids is actually a pain in the ass. Normally the rule is that the one who draws the grid is also the scribe, and the scribe is the one who later writes down all the agreed-upon quadrant symbols after a certain level of debate/discussion, but to make this your "art" you guess you'll have to take over the scribe duties. You don't mind.

This was something you only ever did with Eridan, and you don't mind admitting to yourself that you missed it, kind of a lot. Nepeta always wanted to do shipping grids with you, too, but because of your wariness about her undeclared but obvious flushed feelings towards your august personage, you never let yourself get sucked in (although sometimes she used to entice you to come and examine her shipping wall and you always kind of liked offering commentary on that). 

Eridan does his grids in a weird way. For the x- and y- axises, he starts off first with Egbert, Strider, Lalonde, and Jade, then puts in all of your troll pals, which is pretty much the reverse of how you like to do things; trolls before human bros, that's your personal credo. You both save the pre-scratch humans for last, however, and Eridan leaves off the pre-scratch trolls altogether, which is something you also prefer to do. So maybe his grids aren't that weird. But whatever, the point is that you're thankful you don't have to contemplate the lovelife of Meenah Peixes, ever. 

No one should have to contemplate the lovelife of Meenah Peixes, ever.

Unfortunately, the set up of Eridan's grid means that you need to deal with all the Egbert ships first. Once Eridan finishes up his drawing and hands the grid over to you, you take it and you also take the pencil, and chew on the eraser-portion of the pencil for a good several minutes as you contemplate the one square there which is hardest for you to cop to, which is your own. In the past you always used to insist, sometimes with high levels of violence threatened if Eridan ever dared disbelieve you, that this was a permanently blank square and nothing ever could possibly fill it. In fact you always used to angrily black it out, even though you suspected that Eridan suspected the truth of the matter anyway.

What the hell. You might as well get your deepest shame over with, right off the brood box. Trying your best to seem aggressively indifferent, you draw a spade to indicate your caliginous feelings, with an arrow pointing towards fucking Egbert and no corresponding arrow pointing towards yourself, indicating the unrequited nature of that kismesissitude. "This is old information," you say, seeming very cool and indifferent, pretty much the perfect picture of so-over-it. "Now we're just bros. But... well. It was like this before."

 

As Eridan watches Karkat chew the end of his pencil to scarred-up oblivion (not that he minds; it's cute and also now Eridan's got a new favoite writing utensil), he can't help but wonder exactly what he's agonizing over. Because Kar is clearly agonizing here. Gotta be one of his own quadrants, and Eridan suspects it's the Kar-and-Egbert square. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as a spade gets drawn in that square along with that arrow showing it's unrequited, and while it's what he'd pretty well thought was going on all along it's still quite a fuckin revelation. 

Kar never did share those feelings with Eridan, not until now, and that is a big fuckin deal. A huge deal. That is such a huge deal, Eridan has to wonder if maybe they're back to bros after all, 'cause you don't just share something like that with someone you're not that close to, even if those unrequited feelings are supposedly something in the past. But are they really in the past? Eridan's not going to question it, and Kar looks like he's putting on like he's all cool now. But feelings like that, if they're strong—and Eridan suspects they were, given the vehement square-blackening and refusal to admit to any feelings at all that went on til now—don't just go away. Maybe Kar's got some secret to getting over it. Or maybe he's just hiding it really well.

“Wwell it wwas still bravve a you to fill it in there, evven if it is old newws.” Eridan gives Karkat a sympathetic smile and bumps his shoulder gently. “You wwanna talk about it?”

He's probably already talked it out with someone else, like Gam. That's his moirail after all, even though Eridan really doesn't understand how talking to Gam about romance, or anything really, would help matters. Still, the offer stands. Kar was the one Eridan always went to with his romance problems, and Eridan always tried to return the favor and look out for him too. Maybe it could be like that again.

 

Yeah, actually, you do. You do want to talk about it. Well, a little. For most of the boat ride over here, you thought about how you'd discuss the John thing. It's not something you can really discuss with most people. Terezi knows, of course, but you try not to really get into it with her if you can help it because you're sure that your unrelated jealousy over her unacknowledged, unconsummated black thing with Vriska would take over and instead of ranting about John you'd end up railing at her, because even though you know she'd be perfect with Vriska it's also something that makes you sick, sick, sick to even contemplate, since you wanted her in that quadrant for yourself, at least according to a reasonable pre-arranged schedule. 

Anyway, to this day you secretly believe that you could have had a viable caliginous romance with John if you'd played your cards right. And since you've never felt that way about anyone before or since (other than, arguably, towards yourself), you really do regret the lost chance as well as the fact that you pretty much terminally suck at black romance.

You return Eridan's shoulder bump, twice as hard again since that continues to be the rule, and you'll follow that rule until infinity and fucking beyond-- but you also return Eridan's smile with a kind of twisted, self-mocking little smile of your own. Sure you'll talk. You'll definitely talk. You swallow, and clear your voice, and then lean back in your chair and put the pencil end back in your mouth, so as to keep it on standby if you need to gnaw on anything, and then you swallow again, and yeah maybe this a bit awkward and you sort of want to abort this talking mission and maybe also go untie Feferi's boat and fucking abscond from the fucking island as well. Perhaps you'll come back to discuss this another day, or do it on Trollian, yeah that would be better, and easier, and fuck it all to hell, you really don't like talking about romantic issues that involve yourself. But there's no one else. You couldn't tell this shit to anyone else, and putting it off any more won't help matters, you _know_ that, but still. It's hard.

"He straight up turned me down, you know," you say finally, and your voice sounds perhaps a bit strained and you're gritting your teeth and you almost bite the pencil in half as you talk around it. "I'm the one, you know, who he told that he is not a homosexual." The most humiliating let-down ever experienced in all of Alternia, pretty much. The memory of it burns hard. "That's how he did it and that's why I had to troll him backwards during their session." You attempt to state all that as baldly and as simply as possible; are you successful? you don't know. "Don't you dare say anything sympathetic right now, Ampora, just accept this bit of privileged information and nod and never speak of it again, okay?"

 

“Yeah, all right.” Eridan really means to do as he says too, and not say anything sympathetic or speak of it again—but that can wait a sec. “But first I just wwanna say John's a fuckin idiot for turnin you dowwn like that, Kar. I mean evven if he is kind of wweird an doesn't fill any concupiscent quadrants wwith guys, he wwould havve been so fuckin lucky to havve you, Kar, in any goddamn quadrant.”

He turns so he's facing Karkat, looking him earnestly in the face. “That's not me bein sympathetic either, it's just a plain upright statement a fact. Anybody wwould be lucky to havve you, Kar.”

And shit, there's blood rising to his face again. Because Eridan can't help but think he'd never take a profession of quadrantly feelings from Kar for granted (yeah, and he gets that the likelihood of that is pretty damn abysmal). But they're talking about Kar's feelings here, not Eridan's, and he doesn't want to mess this honest-to-god feelings jam up. Kar opened up to him; Eridan knows the significance of that. Later when the grid moves that way they can jam about Eridan's feelings... though maybe not the Kar-related ones; just thinking about that is making his rather cool violet blood run too damn hot. 

So Eridan nods and then turns his focus back on the shipping grid. “Privvileged information accepted an locked awway noww, promise.”

 

"Whatever." You are back to seeming cool and indifferent, and you're pretty sure you're succeeding at that, even though your cheeks are burning hot and for a moment there while Ampora was saying all that sappy and utterly unnecessary bullshit, you were seriously tempted to strangle him directly in the throat with your own bare hands, since arghhh why does he never listen, is Eridan Ampora just congenitally incapable of listening, are his auricular tissues pretty much permanently clogged with self love and stubborn idiocy?? You honestly wonder.

But. Well, just maybe this one time you will pretend that he did not flagrantly circumvent your simple and completely comprehensible ~~request~~ ~~demand~~ ultimatum since it's not horrible, the thing that he said. Embarrassing, yes, because like, fuck, who even says crap like that with a straight face ,that's like the sort of shit lovers say to each other, but like shitty lovers 101 who are taking a remedial introductory course in supportive sappy talk and anyway it's not like Eridan is really feeling red feelings towards you, you think you would be horrified if he were, he just says inappropriate shit to just about basically everybody and then wonders why the entire world wants to abscond from his creepily braggadocious and ridiculous presence as soon as trollishly possible. Whatever. So, so whatever. You shrug. You are over it. 

So what if your face is still burning like maggots on fire? _Over it._

Slowly, you remove the pencil from you mouth, which yep, is in a pretty terribly gnawed state already. Well that was the hardest thing to get off your chest and you're basically glad it's over, it was a thing that needed to be done and now it has been. You go back to Egbert's row, and carefully, slowly start filling in some of the other canonical ships, commenting on them as you go. "Well, so I feel like Egbert, if he had any culture at all or proper appreciation of quadrants, would be morails with Jade, since they seem to get along like that, but I don't know... I get a sort of romancey vibe from them sometimes despite humanity's vaunted hatred of incest. It's almost like they don't believe they are related. I don't get it, I explained it to them a million times." And each of those times, you had no ulterior motives whatsoever. "Egbert is totally failing to get red with Rose, too, even though I commanded him to. It's like he doesn't even care about propagating his species; frankly I find that disgusting and fucking scandalous, but who am I to talk? Yeah that's right, just his god. But whatever, seriously, I don't care." 

You continue on like this for the rest of Egbert's row.

 

Eridan nods as Karkat explains all his ideas about John's quadrants. Really, though, he's paying more attention to the redness he can see blooming beneath the gray of Karkat's cheeks. It's kind of dusky-looking through the gray, though Eridan knows it's a bright red off the hemospectrum altogether. Looks good on him. Much as he used to make a huge issue of blood color in the past, after everything that happened Eridan's come to the point where he doesn't even feel like pretending that it ever really mattered as much as he always insisted. Maybe it mattered back then, but... those kind of theatrics aren't really necessary anymore. Alternia's gone. All the lowbloods left are trolls he would consider his friends, even if they don't necessarily consider him theirs. He's ruler of his own little island here, emperor of the high sea... or at least this reefy part of it. That’s superiority enough, and all the sort to be had in this new fuckin world anyway. In any case, Kar's got all his respect, always fuckin did, and that red blush makes Eridan’s own violet rush to his face. 

And it’s not that what Karkat's saying about John's quadrants isn't interesting, but Eridan does pay closer attention when Rose is mentioned, given his actual interest in her. John's an all right guy, but not someone Eridan's ever really connected with a whole lot. And he's sounding stupider and stupider as Karkat goes on about him. So he tells Kar as much. “Sounds like he's a feww fish short of a school, an no matter howw many you add he still wwould be.”

Then Eridan steers the conversation more toward a couple people he cares to hear more about, once the John-quadrants are done. “Is it really that surprisin he's not red for Rose though? I thought her flushed quadrant was full anywway. Or wwas that just a flushcrush from Kan's end maybe?”

Kanaya's been shutting him out pretty hard since the end of the game, and Eridan has to admit he sees why... of all the fuckin unconscionable things he did, he did the worst to her what with the matriorb and all. No amount of apologizing is going to fix that, much as Eridan wishes he could have his friend back. But Kar's always been close with her; he'll at least be able to fill Eridan in on what's been going on with her, and with Rose, lately.

 

Wow, Eridan just has no idea how much of an idiot Egbert is, does he? A few fish short? Ha. He might as well be missing whole squadrons of fish. An entire fucking fleet, in fact. You envy Eridan for the fact that he will never know, that he just will never comprehend, that he will never have wasted whole minutes of his life watching fucking John fucktard Egbert pass out plush toy rabbits to the paradox clone human wigglers, careful to only give them to the girl wigglers because ugghhh apparently doing nice things for the boy clones would be too homosexual of him or something. What a retarded tool.

But Eridan was asking you about Rose. And Kanaya. Might as well move the fuck on, although you have whole sermons you could give on the topic of John Egbert's fucking retardedness and someday you want to give them all, consecutively, a fucking filibuster of fucking contempt that would take maybe 89 hours to recite, and you will force Egbert to sit in the auditorium (you imagine this all occurring in an auditorium) and stay and listen to it all and although it's infuriating to know that he'd probably just giggle and eat popcorn and be enragingly _entertained_ by your wrath, well, that would probably only just spur you on. Terezi and Strider and Jade and Gamzee and fucking Serket would all also be forced to attend.

Fuck. It is truly fucking unfortunate how derailed and heated you can get, even just in the privacy of your own mind, about the topic of John fucking Egbert. Fucker. So derailing. Such a fucking eternal tool of fucking derailment. You wish you had Homes Smell You Later, you would start fingering it right the fuck now. Just, like, rubbing your claws thoughtfully up and down that gorgeously sick rainbow sheen of fucking pure death.

"Um, yeah." Gotta focus. "Well, humans are kind of primitive about quadrants, you know, right? I said this already. But also besides being primitive they have some weird and sort of disturbing but also kinda intriguing concepts of relational fidelity that I have been forced to deal with through fucking Strider, as you know." You cough. Derailing. Strider just leads back to Egbert or to Terezi, in your own head. Not good, or useful, at all. "Rose is pretty open to mating with Egbert, it seems, at least on the theoretical species-saving level, but yeah she's definitely working through some serious flushed emotions with Kan, who pretty much more than reciprocates them. They're basically joined at the hip and it's a little disgusting how PDA-ish they are about it. Get a hive!" You shake your fist. 

"However, Rose is also kind of nursing some serious unrequited flushed crushing on Strider, who it seems she was basically in love with from pre-puberty, and on top of that, she and Kanaya together seem to have some kind of unwholesome designs on Nepeta who has been innocently and naively playing along, not realizing that before long she's going to be in some kind of scandalous red roleplay entanglement with the two of them that she probably will actually get really into in the end, knowing her." Eridan is looking at you and following along but is all really flushed too, you can't even imagine why. Oh, unless it's his Lalonde feelings kicking in. Potential moirails, was it? "Lalonde does sometimes speak about you, it seems she has some interest in debunking your view of her being anti-science, and we all know that's code for some kind of moirail-ish shit, at least potentially." Which, you're not bullshitting. It actually is.

As you drop all this sick wisdom, you push ahead and draw the appropriate hearts and diamonds and arrows in the the corresponding boxes even as you speak, because you are just that awesome.

 

“Wwoww, that's a lot more complicated than I evven thought,” Eridan says, tearing his eyes off Karkat to mull over the new quadrant symbols on the page. He's happy to hear Kan got her girl, even if Rose does still have red feelings for Strider too. Apparently that whole incest thing doesn't bother all the humans, since aren't Rose and Dave related somehow too? Wwhatevver. And that whole business with Nep; that's all completely new and something he didn't see coming. Could be good for her.

More importantly, Rose talks about him! That brings a smile to Eridan's face—she might have blown him off every time he's tried to bring magic and science up with her online, but if she's talking to other people about it then it means she's at least thinking about him! Eridan's genuinely interested in helping Rose realize her magic is fake as a very fakey fake thing and lead her to embrace science, but if she has already maybe he should ask her about it. Maybe she'd take better to his pale attentions to her well-being now that she's at least started to see the light. He'll have to try chatting her up on pesterchum later, sometime when Kar's not here.

“Wwhat else you got, Kar?” There are other trolls he'd like to ask about, but it's only fair to give Kar a chance to choose whose quadrants to do next. Besides, Kar's just really cute when he gets into romantic discussions like this. He lights up, gets all animated, and Eridan can just see how much passion Kar has for all this. Which is great; Eridan really enjoys gossiping about romance, and if it allows him to jam with Kar and see him so alive, all the fuckin better.

 

You jump a little when Eridan asks what else you've got, because your first totally not self-centered at all assumption was that he wanted to know more about your Egbert feelings. But of course that is absurd. You think about it and get your logic on and realize that you just are a little sensitive on the topic of Egbert, apparently, that's all. Eridan just wants more gossip. Well, you've got plenty of gossip. You're happy to provide.

So you set down the shipping grid for a second, and turn in your chair so you are sitting in it sideways and cross-legged, facing Eridan directly. This is not a particularly comfortable position in a desk chair but you're small and flexible, you can handle it, and besides reporting on shit is best done face to face. You keep the pencil in your writing hand, however, and you can always pull the paper onto your lap (or hold it up to Eridan's chest) and use either of those things as a nice solid surface against which to make further notations as necessary.

"The most volatile action at the moment involves, believe it or not, Nitram of all people. I mean, you almost certainly know all about his clusterfuck of an abusive non-relationship that he had going on before with Serket, right? So fucking sad and pathetic, on her part, seriously what did she even think she was doing half the time?" You know that Eridan pretty much is in complete agreement with you about that, since a part of your old gossip habits with him involved extensive Serket gossip, most of which involved trashing her/ripping on her in various ways as an attempt to bolster Eridan's own fragile as fuck glass ego. Which was always super fine with you, like seriously Vriska was always acting like All That and it never helped that in several ways she was All That and pretty much, like Strider, could have her pick of whoever the fuck she wanted and tended to squander that advantage chasing after completely preposterous and unsuitable matches which invariably brought out the worst in her, turning her into some kind of spiderlady douchetool, even worse than she already was. 

The biggest irony about all that, of course, was that she was often at her worst when going after the nice idiots, e.g. Nitram and Egbert.

"But! Well, now that they're all back from the dead, like you, it's all fuckass retarded shenanigans with them all the time and half the time it feels like they're in cahoots or going pale and the other half it's still that classic mix of bullshit black/red bullying coming from her, but nowadays Nitram seems more into it or whatever. However, Nitram is notoriously waxing red for Jade in the most embarrassingly flushed and open way as well, writing rap poetry and shit and sending animals to visit her and like turning her life into some kind of animal parade of retardedness where like fucking birds are making dresses for her and fucking chipmunks sit down and take care of all of her minor chores like, fuck, keeping her diary. It is _awful_ and I can't even understand why the fuck it is even happening but Jade seems to be sort of into it, and now Gamz is getting kind of fussed because weeellll, you know, he's got some _very poorly articulated_ stuff going on towards Nitram himself, and fuck if I know exactly what he wants, a rap buddy or a matesprit, but either way Gamzee is just chillaxing his way directly into irrelevancy with his fucking eternal inability to do shit. You know."

Actually, this is a good moment for taking notes. You snatch up the grid again and, as you thought about moments earlier, put that smack up against Eridan's chest. "Here, lemme get this all down," you say, sticking your tongue out as you get to work. It's a little complicated and you don't want to miss anything.

 

Eridan is again mostly listening but also kind of just watching Kar do his thing. He laughs and shakes his head in smug sort of patronizing sympathy as Karkat goes over Vvris's bullying concupiscent advances on Tav; despite their black fling being well over he still can't help enjoying hearing of her troubles. But then, it also sounds like the object of her very obvious affections isn't as opposed to it as he once was. Well, good for her. And him; Tav was always a good guy. Eridan's got nothing against him and thinks it's actually pretty cute that he's suddenly all embroiled in all these romantic entanglements.

And then Kar goes for his chest. Sure, it's basically just to use it as a nice flat, hard surface on which to mark up the shipping grid, but it's contact. Very close contact, unmitigated by any sort of quarrel, and it's... well, it's affecting Eridan. He swallows and holds his breath, going as still as possible with his whole body tensed as he feels the warmth of Kar's hand through the paper as he holds it in place. He has to suppress a shiver as he feels the pencil tip tracing quadrant symbols on the paper and onto his skin. It doesn't even matter that he's got a layer of shirt between the paper and his skin; the pressure is enough. A heart. A diamond. Another heart. Eridan swallows again and tries not to stare at Kar as he works, all businesslike concentration, adorable tongue sticking out between pointed teeth and lips a little parted and—no. No, he has to look away, anywhere, the floor, the table. Which is inches away, and yet Kar's using his chest as a writing surface. Why? Who the fuckin hell cares; it feels incredible. Embarrassingly so. It's making Eridan's entire face heat up, fins to fuckin neck, bloodpusher going so hard and fast it might even be noticeable if Kar wasn't so intent on his shipping.

“Wwhat about...” Eridan licks his lips and wills his stomach to stop doing flips and his bloodpusher to slow the fuck down. It's not working. So unfair. But no way he's going to tell Kar to stop. “Wwhat about black leanins? You got anythin... juicy there?”

 

Of course you do. Just who does Eridan think he is talking to here? The thought sobers you up a little, though, because the black 'leanin' currently occupying your thinkpan these days (besides your personal issues with Egbert, which whatever, those are entirely old news) is such a preposterous headache that you wish it would just fucking go away, now and permanently, preferably by going back in time and erasing itself from all of existence or, if that failed, conveniently shunting itself off into a perma-doomed timeline that you will never ever have to see or interact with again. Ever. "Yeah. Equius," you say, shortly.

You look up to meet Eridan's eyes, but he's not quite looking your way, sort of looking off into the distance which maybe makes sense since you seem to recall that Eridan had probably hit on Equius too once upon a time, in that pathetic and all-too-easily misunderstood way he always had where he seemed a lot more sleazy and awful than he actually ever was, which ha ha actually is a good way to describe Equius too if you think it over. Maybe they could have been a match, in some conveniently and similarly perma-doomed universe well away from you. Just the thought of them together makes you want to hurl, honestly.

But that is getting off the point. You grab Eridan's jaw, not hard but you want his attention and you want him looking at you. "Hey, over here. Yeah. So, Equius is black crushing _hard_ on Gamzee ever since Gamzee fucking killed him, and what with me and Gamzee now being palemates for life, it's.... well, he has been attempting to conscript me, entirely against my will, to mediate. Not as as auspistice or anything, he knows his fucking place- ugh god, _how_ he knows his fucking place- but, you know, to see if I can be goaded into stoking the fires some, since Gamzee treats all those kind of overtures like a fucking joke." Which they are. Which they should be. "What sane person wants some maniacal former subjugglator murderer as their fucking kismesis, anyway?? It's utterly preposterous! And from him, no less! That's basically just asking for a repeat performance, _fuck_."

There are pretty much not enough fucks in the world to illustrate your total fucking incredulity over this whole hot mess. Eridan is staring at you now, wide-eyed, so obviously he concurs. You let go of his face, and go back to your diagram, scrawling some fucking black fucking scribbles over the Gamzee/Equius square to indicate your precise feeling of Fuck. "Irony is," you say, a bit bitterishly but also with some kind of dark amusement over it all, too, "is that the only person Gamz ever felt that way about, ever, is fucking goddamn Dave fucking Strider. Can you even fucking believe it?

 

… It's really hard to focus on the words coming out of Karkat's mouth, even though now Eridan's watching, still wide-eyed. He can still feel where Karkat's strong fingers held his jaw, commanding his attention. Commands aren't something Eridan's ever been one to follow, but just the fact that Kar wants his undivided attention like that makes him want to give him everything. Though his eyes are fixed on Karkat now, most of his thought processes have either stuttered to a halt or gotten distracted by Kar's inadvertently torturous touch. 

Wait, that last sentence out of his mouth ended in a question, didn't it? Fuck, normally Eridan would be eating up all the gossip on Equius, but all these stupid fuckin forbidden red feelings keep getting in the way. Right now all he knows is Kar's ranting about Eq, and it has to do with Gam, and then Dave too. What he's mostly noticed is that Kar's baring his teeth a little, getting more forceful with the pencil—oh fuckin hell is he ever; kind of hurts in a weirdly good way—but there's a sort of dark gleeful fire in his eyes too. Eridan might think Kar had a caliginous crush on Strider, if it weren't for the fact earlier he'd wondered if he was the only one without a crush on Dave.

Okay, Kar asked a question, gotta answer before getting too damn distracted. Only Eridan's not quite sure what it is he's being asked if he 'fucking believes' or not... something about Dave. “Um. No... no wway?” he ventures, hoping that's an adequate answer.

 

"Neither can Leijon!" you say, looking up again with a flash of fully justified disbelief. This is one thing that has started to get you to talk to Nepeta more actively, it's something to be very 'professional shipper' about, since both you and her have staked your lifelong pride on being top romance consultants and advisors. "Leijon doesn't actively disapprove like me, but fuck she's worried about it and she fucking well ought to be. It's going to end in a fucking disaster of Faygo and tears _and that's if we're lucky_." But wait, that doesn't actually go back to your question, since the question was actually about Strider and how Gamzee had that black crush on him based on nothing more than some stupid archaic human internet video of clowns singing about miracles, which to this day Gamzee rates as darkest blasphemy.

Who cares though, Eridan seems to be only partially following the thread of your thought here, and that's okay it's not like he is a master of romance how you are. It might actually be a little endearing that he's not. Maybe.

In any case, you did eventually end up seeing the supposed blasphemy. It was horrible and terrible and you wished you could have gouged your eyes out, simply for having been forced to endure such grotesque and preposterous human entertainment. The actual blasphemous aspect eludes you except you suspect that it has something to do with highblood ancestral roles and mockery of the same, and fuck Gamzee needs to get his thumb out of his nook sphincter and realize that none of that irrelevant historical bullshit even matters. But, um. You look up at Eridan again, who is all flushed and agitated looking, you notice, and you wonder what the hell is his problem now. Best not bring up the actual uselessness of historical bullshit now, or perhaps ever. Ampora is truly into that slurry-stained refuse of absolute crap.

"What I mean," you clarify in a somewhat prickly and deadpan way, pulling on your metaphorical but yet very real mantle of Friendleader Commander in Chief, "is that Equius has less than zero chance with Gamzee, thank fucking human jesus." Ideally, it would be great if Equius not only got over this nonsense, but even went back to his former obsequiously flushed-tinged feelings towards your best bud instead, but you know that's nothing more than a fucking pipe dream at this point. "If he really wants some kind of fucking viable target for his stupidly twisted caliginous proclivities, he should go after Strider, who has basically bulge-blocked him in his pursuit anyway. Could be interesting." Could also end up with Strider very permanently dead, though, which would make Terezi sad. Never mind, fuck it. "Well, that's probably it for him-slash-them. Anyone else you want to hear about?" 

You continue to hold the paper onto Eridan's chest. He makes for a really good easel, you decide. After finishing up with a few notations about things that ought to be but aren't, you lift the pencil from Eridan's chest and pap the tip of his nose with the gnawed-upon eraser end, but not before you wipe it off on the front of your own shirt first. Wouldn't want Eridan freaking out about any more spittle like the effete dorkwad he is.

 

Getting papped lightly on the nose by Kar with the end of the pencil he's been scarring up with his teeth shouldn't make Eridan as giddily happy as it does, but it's literally the upright cutest thing anyone's ever done to him. Nevermind all the cute things Fef did; she's the empress of cute and still never did anything quite that offhandedly sweet to him in all the years they were moirails. It tickles a little and makes him scrunch up his nose, even as a probably really sappy-looking smile tentatively pulls at his lips. Much as he loves the attention and closeness, it's a more than a bit unnerving still; this using him as a writing surface and bopping him on the nose and sharing gossip and secrets—it's different from the way Kar used to be. But in a really nice way. 

_You could just keep talkin, Kar, an I wwouldn't care wwho you wwere on about,_ is what Eridan thinks but isn't dumb enough to say out loud. He's not about to sap this up so much it scares Kar off. Or make him realize what he's making Eridan feel... Eridan doesn't want to think about that happening. Not even a whole day with Kar and already he's falling flushed for him. Not even a whole day, not even back to bros, not even an open quadrant for Kar anyway. Not even going to happen, and while it's easy to remind himself that rationally, emotionally there's no shutting it off or making it go away. Kar wouldn't understand: that even though he's right flushed, he's already backing off preemptively because he knows rejection's the only reaction he can expect. And he just can't deal with that rejection right now, not when this is the first chance he's gotten to have Kar in his life again at all.

So he'll ball his hands into fists on his thighs and hold all those feelings in. Gossip about other people's feelings and connect with Karkat like this, now. 

He still hasn't answered the question. Eridan clears his throat and considers. “Howw about the new humans? Or Sol? Or Fef?”

The new humans he hasn't interacted with a whole lot yet, so he's curious. And Sol and Fef... he thinks he has an idea of what they might be up to quadrant-wise, but he wants to hear what Kar knows. If he can concentrate enough to listen. … Never thought he'd be too distracted to care about Fef-based info, but at this rate Kar might be capable of just that level of distraction.

 

Hmm. This question causes you to sit back a little, pulling back the paper and dropping it into your lap. You drop the pencil there as well, and cross your arms. Hmm. Hmm indeed.

Does Eridan actually care to know about the new humans at all, or was that merely a transparent ruse in order to ask about Sol... er, Sollux, and Feferi? You mean, _you_ pretty much don't care about the new humans, since they aren't really interfering with any of your established quadrant relationships at all and moreover there was just no point in getting especially invested in them. It wouldn't actually shock you if he didn't care about them either, not one single bit. Setting that aside, however, the real reason for your temporary tactical withdrawal is to assess Eridan's purposes in asking about his former unrequited matesprit and kismesis.

You want him to be over them. For real, not just for show, and not just to keep the peace. It would really be the best thing for everyone, including yourself (in your role as romantic consultant). But if you avoid the topic and treat it like it's sensitive, how are you ever going to know where Eridan stands on this? There's still kind of a huge gaping hole in your bloodpusher from that moment when you witnessed Eridan kill three of your good friends, all in close succession, knowing that they were all people Eridan cared for deeply too. So after a brief and silent assessment, trying to be as non-judgmental appearing about it as possible since if Eridan starts whining you might have to slap him, you answer. "Well, 'Sol' and 'Fef' live near me, and I see them pretty often. They're pretty happy, Eridan." 

Which is enough to say about that. You don't really wait to give Eridan time to respond: your big concession to his feelings was calling them by Eridan's personal pet names, and that is way more than enough. "As for the new humans, well... they're pretty fucking ridiculous. The one called Dirk seems to be eternally flushed for the Jake human, and it seems it might be somewhat reciprocated, but Jake is also clearly flushed for the Jane human too, and my personal suspicion is that they'll end up in what the humans indelicately call a 'threesome.'" 

You roll your eyes, but actually this threesome thing is somewhat of a topic of personal interest to you, so despite yourself you find yourself getting a bit excited and animated again, explaining. In practical terms, this means you uncross your arms and lean forward a little, holding your hands into separate fists in front of your chest. "Eridan, did you know?" You shake your fists in tandem, as if you were shaking the datum that you were about to share. "Humans don't seem to care about infidelity _at all_. Well, some of them do, but according to Strider and Lalonde, infidelity is called something like poly-lovey in human terms and it's totally legal and allowed." This is why you have decided to accept Strider's permanent presence in your redrom life, actually. Because poly-lovey is legal and allowed for humans, it means that you don't have to go black with Terezi ever even when she's flushing hard on Strider. "I know it's pretty gross, I think so too, but there are some interesting advantages to it too!"

 

When Karkat pulls away and then just looks at him, Eridan's attention snaps back into focus. He did something, said something, to make Kar do that, oh bloody fuck. When it turns out it was over the Fef and Sol question, he thinks he could kick himself for asking. But he had to know if what he was thinking was going on really still was. Doesn't hurt to test the waters every now and then to see if anything's changed (except that it always does hurt, because it never does change, not in Eridan's favor). And honestly, he mostly asked out of reflex this time... when Kar confirms what he suspected, Eridan finds it actually doesn't hurt all that much to hear it. It does a bit, still, but maybe after countless sweeps it’s finally starting to ebb. He nods, wishing he could take the question back and still have Kar's shipping grid pressed to his chest, pencil carving tiny hearts and diamonds and spades and clubs all over him. _It!_ He meant _it._ The paper. Fuck. 

Not having that contact is helping him actually listen properly to what Karkat's saying, at least. He's still pretty happy when Kar gets more animated again, getting into what he's telling Eridan about the humans' poly-lovey thing. It's pretty outright unnatural, Eridan thinks, not caring a bit about infidelity. There's definitely a hint of a disgusted sneer on his face, really not sure about the whole deal. “Wwait, Kar, wwhat do you mean? Advvantages like wwhat? Bein unfaithful is, like, invvitin discord an disaster usually, ain't it? Unless there's agreed-on vvacillation goin on, I guess.”

 

"Ha, tried that." Just a fucking asshole-rumpus-party of shits and embarrassment, the so-called vacillation 'talk' you had with Strider that one time. Fuck, it ended with the non-consensual drawing of human dicks and you never, ever, ever wanted to see one of _those_ unless it was in the real-life context of fucking the brains out of Egbert and making him spit rage and humiliation at you for passion-filled hours and days on end, ideally with some nice furious sexy pitch-black biting and scratching and clawing going on as well. "I swear, with Homes Smell You Later as my witness, I am never drawing another fucking relationship schedule again." It takes all of your willpower not to shudder or, better, retch. "You have no fucking idea how heinous that whole fiasco with Strider was, and seeing as how you were dead at the time, you were probably better off."

Since Eridan is basically looking at you with one big ? on his face, you decide to helpfully elaborate. "Look, when it comes to going black for Terezi, I am a fucking failure. Just basically a fucking joke, and if you tell anyone I said that, _ever_ , I will come back out here by boat in full fucking daylight and vivisect your fucking body from gill to stern, and you won't even know what fucking sliced you." Eridan doesn't cower before your threat, but that's okay, he's a douchebag, he's not supposed to. "Every time I tried, it just made the whole fucking thing seem completely unviable and at one point she didn't even want to talk to me anymore. It sucked." It way more than sucked, actually. "Also, she's pretty shitty at black feelings too, or rather, she's got someone who should be her fucking kismesis and it sure as fuck isn't me. So that was never gonna work. But, well... like, there's fucking Strider. And she likes him too, and he's a fucking human and could not give two fucks about trying to shove me out of the way, all he wants to do is make chalk drawings with her and have insufficiently sloppy makeout sessions with her whenever he feels like it. I like her too much to abscond and leave her to him just because it's kind of weird."

You take a deep breath. Yeah, that's kind of the crux of the matter there. You are an irreconcilably broken and inadequate troll, at least when it comes to romance in relationship to the hemospectrum, and so all along you knew you would have to be sort of nonconventional about things if you were ever to find love or pity at all, and once you found it with Terezi, well. Why would you ever be retarded enough to let that go? Just because you can't fucking vacillate? "I kind of fell ass-backwards into poly-lovey bullshit, in the sense that Terezi is red for both me and Strider at the same time and that's just how it is. So I've been thinking. I probably could do that myself, too. You know, if I wanted." You decide not to detail your attempts at starting just such a thing with Jade... there's only so many grotesque shame feelings you can deal with jamming about in a single day. "Let's just say I'm open to it, even though yeah, it's basically infidelity." 

Kind of exciting to say all that shit out loud, you have to admit. Your face has gone all warm again, but that doesn't stop you from shaking your fists one more time. "See?"

 

“Wwoww, Kar.” Eridan breathes the words with a little more awe than he probably should. He never knew there wasn't any real vacillation going on between him and Terezi anymore, and frankly if it wasn't Kar and Ter doing the poly-lovey thing he might still be more uncomfortable with the idea. But Ter's a pretty cool person, and Kar's like his best fuckin friend... and what's more, that last revelation about Kar being open to the idea of filling his quadrants with more than one person is upright ground-shattering. In a really fuckin amazingly great way. “I nevver wwoulda thought infidelity like that could be anythin but bilge-suckingly disgustin, but I _do_ think I kinda see.”

He leans forward in his seat a bit too, eager to hear more. “An Ter... she'd be okay wwith it, if you wwanted to start somethin flushed wwith someone else too?” Eridan assumes so. It'd be fuckin hypocritical of her if she wasn't, but he figures it'd be best to make sure... just in case.

As if Kar would ever want to be his matesprit. It took him how long to even talk to Eridan again? Does he really have to keep reminding himself every five seconds? Don't even ask; the answer's yes of course—Eridan's fighting the urge to just spill his feelings right then and there all of a sudden, since Kar's open to the idea. Reminding himself of why that'd be the worst mistake ever is an undeniable necessity.

But... what if? Maybe someday he'll have a chance. That thought makes Eridan's heart soar, while at the same time making him pretty nauseous with anxiety. Because his heart's soaring with goddamn bloody fuckin hope. He'll just... push it down for a while. Someday isn't now.

Still, there's definitely a really dopey grin on Eridan's face now, and he's blushing just as hard as Karkat is.

 

Hah. Is Terezi okay with it? She's the one who pretty much got her fucking fake squidaroo court called to order and ended up with this verdict locked and loaded. The flush in your cheek deepens. "She told me I _had_ to be open to it," you admit. "She said I'm not allowed to be bitter or fucking over-animated or loud about what she's got going on with Dave. I'm basically not allowed to yell at her ever about their moronical relationship no matter how moronical it gets. I'm..." 

You swallow, pause. Wow. You're really sort of unburdening a lot of shit here, way more than you'd intended on detailing when you started off talking about the shipping grids. The plan had been to tell Eridan all about your stuff with John since you needed to unload about that. You hadn't meant to get into these nitty gritty ultra private aspects of your matespritship, and explaining about poly-lovey things was supposed to be more about maintaining your pride and also because it's scandalous and weird and also kind of cool. But Eridan's question is a good one, kind of the logical outshoot of the topic you guess, and so maybe explaining a bit further is necessary since you're a pretty fucking awesome guy and you don't want him to get any wrong ideas and start thinking you're _totally_ pathetic and _absolutely_ hopeless and all that. That would fucking bite.

"I'm, uh. It's not like I _have_ to find someone else, you know. It's just she doesn't want me ever saying it's not fair that she's got someone extra and I don't." Which, you admit, you would completely have been saying if she hadn't made all of this fucking abundantly clear to you. You pick up the shipping grid and kind of fold the paper and unfold it, almost compulsively, and you also pick up the pencil and start rolling it back and forth between your fingers. "I'm not sure how I feel about it, though. Terezi... well, she says I'll know it when I know it-- when it's time for me to take on a second matesprit that is-- and she promises not to be jealous at all." In fact she kept teasing and teasing you about it, because she said it would be just too adorable to witness you being in love with someone outside of herself, and said that it would probably make her love you even more, just because it would be so cute. All the teasing was another thing that pushed you to finally have this long-deferred visit to fucking Ampora. 

Because, ah, she was just being so fucking irritating about it, though. Not for any other potential or theoretically conceivable reason.

"I hope that makes sense and fuck, wow, let's change the subject. Um..." You smooth out the grid in your lap, trying not to look or sound too awkward all of the sudden. "We already kind of covered Rose, and Jade, and I think we've discussed Strider enough for a fucking lifetime. "Aradia next?"

 

It all made sense to Eridan, and he'd say so, but it looks like Kar's pretty anxious as hell to change the subject. Ter is taking on a whole lot of dimensions he never saw before, pushing Kar to love more. The more Eridan thinks about it, the more he can see it being a good thing for Kar—Kar's just about the most caring guy he knows, despite his perpetually scowly and grumpy demeanor. That's a big part of why Eridan likes him so much. And it's really fuckin amazing to know Kar trusts him enough to tell him all about these most personal of private affairs. 

Also amazing and wonderful to know that if Kar ever did happen to magically fall flushed for him (since rationally and scientifically Eridan doesn't think the chances are that great), Eridan wouldn't be stepping on any toes or causing any other romantic problems. 

Anyway, subject change. Eridan could listen to Karkat's unburdening all damn day, but the way Kar's fidgeting and blushing, he's more than ready to move on, and Eridan can respect that. So he nods, still smiling warmly. “Yeah, tell me about Aradia, then, Kar.” He sort of moves the ends of his scarf out of the way, hoping maybe Kar will take the opportunity to utilize the free space of his chest as a writing board again.

 

Hmm, Eridan sure likes that fucking scarf of his, doesn't he? You wonder if he ever even cleans it or if he wears it every fucking day without pause. Of course you could never ask, the very existence of such a question in your mind would probably rank as the highest level of personal fashion blasphemy and between that and fucking miracles you are fucking tired of everyone's ridiculous and completely derangedly stupid ideas of what constitutes blasphemy. This dumb distracting thought, however, helps lift your sense of awkwardness and gets you usefully back on track... you turn back around in your seat, facing the desk instead of Eridan now, and slap the paper down on the hard surface. Time to get fucking serious.

"Well," you say, and you draw a shitty little Equius face in the Equius/Aradia spot, instead of the typical heart or spade you would usually draw, since they're still vacillating. Just a bit of extra art service for Prince Douchfin of the Flowing and Questionably Clean neck scarf, and you hope he appreciates it since it's pretty much your shittiest art yet. "These two are in total shenanigans mode now. I feel like Equius probably needs some poly-lovey bullshit in his life, too, since he pretty much can't do black for her either, even though she's still cycling caliginous with him damn regularly, and I have it on the _highest authority_ " ... your co-romantic gossip consultant, Nepeta... "that this fucking ship is starting to enter into some hot shit pulp novel territory soon enough. Also-" You start drawing a craptastic honey bee in Aradia's Sollux square. "Moirails? Again, at last? Possibly? Nepeta is convinced."

 

Eridan can't help but be a little disappointed that Kar's back to using the actual desk to write on, especially after he cleared his chest of any extraneous fabric. Luckily his pout goes unnoticed as Karkat gets to work discussing Aradia's quadrants, and it's soon gone as he gets caught up in it too.

Seems like Equius is having a lot of romantic issues of late. Eridan's pretty sure that Kar was talking about him earlier, involving... Gam, was it? He remembers Kar saying something about it ending in Faygo and tears. And now he's got some steamy Aradia problems too. “Nep sure has her work cut out for her, handlin Eq's red entanglements,” he says, staring at the truly awful-looking and stupidly adorable drawing of Equius' face that Karkat's made in the square. “An I don't think he'd be one to be so open to the wwhole poly-lovvey thing, bein all about the rules an all. ...Or maybe I'vve got that backwwards, noww that I think about it. The vvery impropriety of it all wwould probably make him sweat disgustin soppin towwels full.”

Eridan scowls as the shitty honey bee gets scribbled onto the paper in Aradia's Sollux square, but it's a half-hearted and half-assed effort to be pissed that Sol's filled another quadrant. Honestly, Aradia and Sol would make good moirails. And while Eridan still pretty well hates Sol for getting the girl of his dreams, a lot of the intensity has worn off the blackness of his feelings. He can be happy for Aradia and indifferent to Sol, especially in this situation.

“Good for them,” he finally says, with an imperious wave of his hand.

 

You look at Eridan out of the corner of your eye, grin, and don't even bother trying to hide the snort-laugh you make in response, since that was just fucking unconvincing, and yet in a way you can connect to, unlike the blatant whining or boasting of his past. Now here's the douchebag you always used to trade gossip with. It sort of makes you happy, in a weird and possibly slightly unsettling way, because well it's sort of like just by being here you've skipped over the entire forgiveness process and are falling back into old ways, as if shit never got real.

But well. You just don't want to think about that, not now. It will just sour the acids in your sickly sexy shame-filled shame globes of romantic wisdom. 

So you button down and get seriously to work. You fill out the rest of the diagram, mostly with traditional symbols but also with some more pictorial guides, somehow getting re-routed back to Egbert and re-filling out his entire row in scathing detail, going back over the things you did previously and expanding since that is all extremely important information that should not be just glossed over which you are afraid you did the first time. At some point you demand another pencil because it seems that the eraser on the first one was defective, something you find out when you go to put in some extra annotated crap about Egbert's Jade feelings, but then change your mind mid-scribble since belatedly you realize that touches on your own Jade issues and nope, not gonna do it.

Because Eridan's pretty much disconnected on a personal level with most of your friends, you soon stop asking for him to decide what you should comment on next, and take over as pretty much the conductor and dictator of the shipping chart since it's clear he doesn't have enough compensatory gossip to expand upon this beautiful work of galactically relevant romantic dirt you are dishing exclusively for his benefit. Eventually the diagram morphs into something of a treatise on your recommended and preferred ships as well, even the ones that are never going to happen because trolls and especially humans are stubbornly self-destructive morons who rarely tend to delve for the golden shimmering-like-fucking-diamond-pearls-of-the-sea advice you keep locked away in the treasure trove of your pretty much perfect thinkpan. For some reason Eridan seems to approve of most of your ideas which isn't something he used to do, and it's kind of nice how he's finally started to grow up into a troll with something like a modicum of sense.

You may end up going slightly overboard. You have theories. You have ancedata. You have relevant explanatory chat logs (which you get Eridan to open for you on his computer after you drop him your cloud password and tell him what folders to pillage). At one point you may or may not grab him by the douchey collar of his hipsterware with one hand and tug his face closer to your marvelous scribbles, so that he can properly appreciate the detailing of Jade's squiddle-tiers and how that relates to her love life. That is all very important secret shit that no one besides you ever noticed. It's pretty- what's the word? - exhilaratin'. After god only knows how long you go through all of that, eventually you turn to Eridan. 

"Wanna tackle your row now?"

 

Eridan has been thoroughly enjoying all Karkat's grid-filling and detailed explanations of everyone's romantic lives. He especially likes when Kar goes into his fantasy quadrant picks for people; it's something he used to be fond of doing himself. He'd almost forgotten how fun it is. And he never knew just how interested he was in Jade's love life until Kar pulls him down to look more closely at his (flawlessly) shitty rendering of the girl in question's squiddle-tiers. Granted, that might have something to do with the way Kar's yanking him in close, and how animated Kar is about it. Jade and John, Eridan notices, get a lot of Kar's attention. Whatever Kar says, it's pretty apparent he's not totally over John, and there's likely some feelings for Jade in there too. Usually Eridan would have needled him about it, giving him a good tease for more information and just for the hell of it, but Kar's already shared a lot and if he's not sharing that then there must be some sort of reason for it. Things are going way too well for Eridan to risk making things uncomfortable just for a little more romantic dirt, even when that dirt is Kar-related and therefore that much more interesting to him.

Then Kar prompts him to fill him in on his own shipping grid row. Normally he's all about talking through his relationship stuff, but seeing pretty much everyone elses' grid lines filled in at least one quadrant is highlighting his romantic failings even more than usual. He clams up, lips pressed in a thin line as he looks uneasily down at the grid, all full of exuberant pencil markings except for in his own squares.

It's going to be upright pathetic, all full of unrequited arrows and all on his own part. Still, Kar's shared so much with him today, way more than he had to, and way more than he's ever trusted Eridan with before. Eridan can't very well tell him to just not worry about marking in his own quadrants at all; it'd be fuckin rude.

But where does he even start? The advice—no, wait, the fuckin intervention—Kar gave him earlier comes to mind. Be more discriminating, he said. Easier said than done, Eridan'd replied, and he meant it. But... maybe he should try.

Eridan licks his lips and looks to Kar, then quickly back down at the paper. “Wwell,” he says, to break the rather drawn-out silence that's descended on them. “None a my quadrants are filled right noww, Kar. But I got feelins... you can put a diamond in the Rose square, like I told you about before. Wwith an arroww, you knoww, since she's not exactly reciprocatin at the moment.”

That's a start. He rubs his chin, thinking.

“An then just make some real light markins wwith the pencil in the Sol an Vvris squares. Again, wwith arrowws, cause a course these are only my feelins. Those should be faded spades, cause the feelins aren't all that fresh but I still havve them.” Unrequited or failed as those black leanings were, they're still a part of him, and if an opportunity ever presented itself... well, he wouldn't hesitate, let's just say. 

“Kan, too, a faded club wwith an arroww. I think she'd be the best auspistice. Like she's hatched to it,” Eridan says, with a bit of a sad smile. “That one's pure fantasy on my part, since... wwell, you knoww.” Best not to bring all the issues out, not when this is supposed to be a fun activity.

That leaves his feelings for Fef... and his feelings for Kar himself. “God, Kar, this ain't easy,” he sighs, brushing his rings against the underside of his chin, feeling the cool stones and metal against his skin. “Fef's been trying to be moirails wwith me again, but I'm not sure I'm ready to do that. Not wwith her, not after wwhat happened last time.”

His blood pusher's all up in his throat now as he considers his flushed feelings, sort of choking him, stomach swirling like a whirlpool in his guts. It feels wrong to say he doesn't still have red feelings for Fef, but at the same time he really can't deny how bloody ruddy he is for Kar now too. But maybe that's okay. He can be flushed for Kar and still have a special red place in his heart for Fef. 

“Make a faded heart in my square for Fef,” Eridan finally decides. “Wwith another fuckin arrow. An... an a diamond, wwith a question mark.”

He stares at the grid for an agonizing moment more, chewing on his lower lip. The Karkat square has his full attention. A heart belongs there too. A nice, dark one; none of this lightly-drawn faded skyhorse shit. It's just, even the idea of sharing that right now is making him upright sick. What if it freaks Kar out? His eyes flick up to Kar's face, then back down to the square in question, then back to Kar again.

It's too soon.

Face violently violet, Eridan finally nods and sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “There. Got any helpful pointers or intervventions or whatevver?”

 

At first it seemed like Eridan was going to hedge or defer, or possibly simply just rush through or say something terribly lame like 'you know what my feelins are, fill it yourself.' You sat out his silence feeling a bit on edge, tense and getting almost preemptively pissed off since you sort of could feel the oncoming dismissive statement like a fucking unstoppable slow-motion cruise ship aka like that horrible, horrible movie the Jake human made you watch once, Speed 2. But then Eridan opened his mouth and you almost fell out of your fucking chair because he didn't do any of that shit, nor did he return to his olden-days mode of boasting or sniveling or otherwise just becoming some kind of semi-borderline emotional wreck.

Your bloodpusher thumps a bit erratically for a few moments, since well that was a gratifying shock. Real gratifying. After Eridan tells you the thing about Rose you nod, and proceed to draw exactly what he requests as if taking dictation like some kind of fucking Secretary of OTPs. You do this for each of the quadrants, although you get a little stumped about how to illustrate the faded pairings... eventually you decide to just make them into dotted-line symbols. And as Eridan goes down the line, from pale to black to ashen, and finally to Feferi and red, you find yourself getting a little fucking emotional yourself, since it's pretty much like the saddest fucking romance novel/movie/dating sim ever.

So you get a little angry anyway, but not really at Eridan so much as at the terrible fucking injustice of the world since well even though Eridan kind of deserves all the injustices that doesn't mean that you find it fair that he's continuing to have it _this_ rough, fuck, and besides well now you _really_ feel bad for like basically ignoring him for the past half a sweep or so. Eridan's matter-of-fact, relatively non-emotional and non-blaming approach to describing his woes gets to you in the way that a lot of sobbing just wouldn't: you scrub angrily at the red-tinged tears silently falling from your eyes, and you have to admit that you do feel guilty for ignoring him, even if he deserved it, and well. Fuck. Fuck it all to fucking hell.

You do a pretty good job, you think, keeping your stupid non-con tears to yourself, turning your head to the side and wiping at your eyes in a way that hopefully seems more like you're really concentrating and thinking hard or whatever.

Nor does your voice shake when you open your mouth to answer Eridan's question, once he's done listing everything off and somehow managed to do it all with the minimum of self-pity. Maybe you sound a bit gruff though, and at first you don't meet his gaze. "Yeah, actually, I've thought about your dilemmas a lot."

Even without speaking to him for that whole long time, of course you were getting as much news as was available to be had, because several of your friends made a particular point to report back to you whenever they ended up getting cornered by Eridan online, and you heard enough other things in passing or by specifically asking to get a fairly decent picture of what he had been up to (or not up to) all this time. None of what Eridan had you draw had been any mystery to you. 

You take a deep breath, and go circle the Lalonde square. From there you drew a nice long parenthetical arrow off to outside the grid, so as to begin making your particular diagnostic commentary. "Rose is a pretty good moirail option for you, I think," you say slowly. "I guess. I mean, I feel like of all the quadrants, humans understand moirallegiance the least. This is because they are fucking retarded idiots, obviously. But of all of them, Lalonde probably could get it if someone explained it to her properly. I still think you need to just go for normal human-style friendship first, though. It seems to be the only way, for them." You pause for a second. "I don't mind trying yet another fucking time to see if I can get it through her stupid thick human skull what it takes. I'll give it a shot but I make no fucking promises."

As a traditionalist, you can't abide by following Eridan's erratic, haphazard ordering of the quadrants, and so move on to the ashen quadrant next as is much more appropriate. This is a bit less fraught of a topic, and so you decide to be pretty bold in how you unveil your pristine wisdom here, even though you suspect it will be hard for Eridan to swallow. You draw a nice big black X-mark through the Kanaya square, and then make an arrow from there over to Feferi's. "Here. You know that Kanaya is never ever going to auspistice for you, not that I think you couldn't ever be friends or anything with her in the future, you know. But over here, maybe you should stop thinking of Feferi as someone who you'd go back to being pale for? I think you might underrate her for this role, and... well, it would be a good way to sort of acknowledge your old feelings while moving on from them? So long as it's not with Sollux, I really think she could auspistice for you with just about anyone else. Especially..."

Especially since you have a pretty awesome juicy blackrom fantasy prospect for him that he probably never even fucking considered. This causes you to perk up some. You really gave this particular problem for him a _lot_ of thought, since you feel like Eridan was pretty much hatched to be _someone's_ ideal lifelong blackrom flame, and of all of your romantic principles, this comes close to being the one you'd stand and die for, since it's just so fucking true. Eridan is so effortlessly irritating and unconsciously sullen and ridiculously superior, how could there not be someone who was basically made for blackrom for him?! You can't conceive of him not having success in this realm, seriously. It should be so easy for him! All these thoughts get you a little worked up, and you forget about your temporary secret hidden tearfulness because this is kind of exciting awesome shit. 

So like you end up pushing your chair back, and standing up so you can aggressively circle a particular square, and then you point at it like an x-marks-the-spot. "Here!" Your little circle is around Nepeta's square. "This is totally who should be your kismesis. I swear to fucking god."

 

“Nep? Okay you're gonna havve to explain that one to me, Kar,” Eridan says, well and thoroughly confused as he looks up at Karkat standing over him and proudly pointing at his bold circle.

The rest at least make sense, much as it hurts to have it confirmed almost all his feelings are doomed to stay permanently unrequited. Kan will never be his auspistice, Fef will never be his matesprit and isn't even suited to be his moirail... he'll have to think about how he feels about her as an auspistice like Kar suggested. She has been pretty helpful in all her un-asked-for meddling in his business lately, he has to admit, and while it's weird to him to think of her in an ashen way it... has potential. Rose, he'll leave to Kar for now. Maybe he can talk her around to feeling friendly toward him at least. It'd be a start, and it's heartening to know that's not a lost cause.

Nep, though, as a kismesis? Eridan's never really felt black for her... she's pretty fuckin cute, he thinks, and he's never had any rivalries or altercations with her before that could lead him to think of her in a caliginous way. She’s annoying, yes, but enough to hate her? Eridan’s not sure. Still, he trusts Kar... and he's really fuckin into this pairing apparently, all excited enough to be jumping out of his seat about it. Plus he should know Nep pretty well; they're friends. She's his other romance consultant, after all. (And would be more if she had her way—that's no secret even if it’s unspoken.) So Eridan waits expectantly for Kar's answer, as receptive to the idea as he can be, given that he's never even thought of it before.

 

Of course. He just refuses to see it. You decide to shove up onto the desk so you can look down at Eridan from even higher, who correspondingly looks up at you all clueless-like and stuff, and you set the shipping grid aside so you can face Eridan directly from a nice lecturey position. Time to take this foolish seadwelling mer-troll and former-possibly-onceagain dudebro to school, and get him properly in awe of all the amazing fucking romantic observations skills you've got up your fucking sleeves. Watch and learn, you think smugly at his curious upturned face. Watch and learn, mer-troll. 

You start off by nudging at his knee playfully with one foot, kicking it softly since that is a part of being in lecture mode, while at the same time crossing your arms. "The 'kittycat shipper cave girl'?" you say, with a bit of teasing but friendly superiority since wow your memory is _pristine_. "The one who out-and-out rejected your apparently terrible pathetic redrom advances with absolutely no sense of gratitude at all for how you saved her fucking 'kittycat shipper cave girl' ass? As her, I quote, 'tireless and completely underfuckin appreciated server player?' Remember? Do you even have the slightest idea how much unexplored, unexamined, fucking un-self-acknowledged lingering black feelings she has about you to this fucking day, just on the basis of that alone? She thinks you're _creepy_ , dude."

Seriously. It's pretty goddamn amazing, actually. And it certainly didn't help matters when you accidentally let slip once to her that shipping grids are a thing you do (or rather, used to do) with Eridan, since you had always pretty steadfastly refused to draw any with her because of Issues. You like discussing shipping things with her, for sure, but you've always had to be careful around her unrequited red feelings for your own personage, and once she found out that Eridan got something out of you that she couldn't, she just blew up into some kind of amazing shouty fuss about how much she hated Eridan's purple ass and how it was so unfair. "Her feelings are pretty much ripe for the stoking, I think," you say, with a bit of a small proud smirk, "... so it's mostly a matter of you getting in touch with what I am fully sure is exactly the right sort of internal contempt to get things going. I mean, man, she's so fucking cute and you're just completely not! I think that it would work on that basis alone, but hey there's more."

This part is what convinced you it's fate, the part you're about to relay. You uncross your arms, lean forward, bite your lower lip with hard to contain glee, and put one hand on top of Eridan's purple splotch of hair, pressing down into his ridiculously mutant hair after ruffling it for a second, and then leaning in so you are basically face-to-face. "One time I was talking to Equius about his problems online, you know, and somehow he started talking about Nepeta and I think he was trying to, you know, advocate for her red feelings for me or something but it was getting super awkward and everything, so to deflect the subject I asked him about what he felt about her _caliginous_ feelings instead, and he was all what caliginous feelings? So I told him about my speculations re: you and he just was all, no stinking way 100k that is neigh insupportable I will never allow her to go after that disgusting fishblood, and he went on and on and on, and I was thinking, is there even any way that Eridan wouldn't just go after her based on the insulting aspect of that alone? I mean, how rude is that?"

 

“That is the upright rudest thing I havve evver heard. Nep wwould be fuckin LUCKY to havve my black attentions; wwhere does Eq get off talkin like that? She couldn't possibly evver do better than me.” Okay, all of this really is making Eridan's regal fuckin blood boil. Kar's encouragement is just fueling his fire.

“An Nep! I wwas a fuckin gentleman to her all savvin her ass an you're right; I didn't in any wway deservve that kind of ungrateful upright rejection, evven if my red advvances wwere a little misplaced.” Oh, he could kiss Kar right now for suggesting this kismesitude. He's right there, face so close Eridan could close that gap in an instant if he wanted to. And he does want to.

But instead he just grins and leans in to Kar's touch. That hand in his hair is really fuckin nice, even if it is mussing his carefully styled hair up a bit... he almost doesn't even care. “Thanks, Kar. You're the fuckin king a romance, I swwear.”

He grabs the foot Karkat keeps kick-nudging his knee with, holding it hostage and shaking it a little. “I just havve to disagree wwith you on one point: I am too cute. Maybe not Nep-cute or Fef-cute or evven Jade-cute, but howw could you say I'm not cute at all in the least?”

 

Somehow you really like that good-naturedly aggressive grin on Eridan's stupid face, especially since he's sort of pouting about irrelevant bullshit at the exact same time. Cuteness? Who cares about cuteness? Ruefully, you realize a bit belatedly that Eridan does, and you should have fucking expected it, but amazingly he's not wallowing in a pout, but instead is doing... this. This foot-hostage thing. 

It's basically pounce-pouting whatever this is. More proof he and Nepeta are Meant To Be.

You look down at the foot of yours that Eridan is shaking, and the gleeful smile on your face widens as you sit up, removing your face from his facial vicinity to go back to looking down on him, like a god king of romance should, and thank you very much Ampora for recognizing this basic essential factoid of life and being appropriately grateful for your genius expertise. For some reason, you don't remove your hand from his hair however, tangling your fingers a bit tighter in the stupidly purple locks. After a bit of messing his hair up even further, but not too much since that would probably be deemed offensive according to Eridan's hipster-tiers of obnoxiousness, you deploy your other foot, casually kicking at Eridan's other knee instead of answering his question. You pap-pap-pap until eventually he grabs that one too. Ha. You're at my mercy now, mer-troll.

Now that Eridan's hands are both occupied, putting the relax on your kicking feet, that means he pretty much is completely unable to counter your next move which is to pet his hair with both hands, which you hope he sees is something you just wouldn't do with someone who is legitimately cute. Like, does Eridan even understand the basic number one essential rule of cuteness? If you have you say you're cute, you're not cute. If you protest that you aren't cute, you are. It's like some kind of universal constant or Platonic tautology and basically is a fact of existence. Normally you would be informing him of this with a lot of cranky well-deserved disdain, but you can't muster your usual disdain since, again, he just called you the king of romance. Like, finally, someone gets it.

"Hmm," you say, magnanimously, feeling like your point was proven via science (actual empirical science, and not whatever magical version of science exists in Ampora's science-ignorant head), but willing to give him a shot to defend his deluded self-image anyway. "Explain."

 

… He's supposed to think up reasons with Kar's hands all buried in his hair like this? That's a bit much to expect of Eridan when he's got tingles running over his scalp and warmth all bouying his insides. Kar probably has no idea what he's doing to him. He could just sit like this all night, holding Kar's feet and melting into a contented puddle in his hands. If it weren't for the fact that he's got to set Kar straight about his very real cuteness, Eridan might have just closed his eyes and relaxed. But of course he's got to state his case and let Kar know what he should be seeing.

“Wwell, I'vve been told my accent is kinda cute,” Eridan says, smiling toothily at Karkat. So what if he's heard it's ridiculous more often than not? One time Fef thought it was cute; that counts. “An I happen to think my glasses make me look pretty cute, an also cool. They're vvintage! Wwell, sort of... they're like the ones troll Buddy Holly wwore. Anywway.”

The next cute thing about him that he wants to show Karkat is kind of on him too—on one of his hands, to be precise. Hands that are currently occupied keeping Kar's feet well in order, and he really doesn't want to let go just yet. Maybe Kar's flexible enough... Eridan lifts one of his feet high enough that Kar might see the hand gripping it, being careful not to hurt him. “See that one amethyst ring on my pinky?” he asks, wiggling the finger in question. “Fuckin cutest thing evver. It's a tiny skyhorse an the stone's its belly. Third wwrigglin day present from my lusus.” 

Yeah, he's pretty proud of that one. He lowers Kar's foot again and tilts his head up, so he can see Kar better. And so his fingers can get tangled even deeper in his hair. Who cares about it getting messed up? Eridan can always fix it again later. “See, Kar? I'vve got cute things about me.”

 

If fashion counted towards cuteness points, you yourself would be the cutest troll in existence just based on the range and style of your various awesome sickles esp. Homes Smell You Later which remains your greatest treasure ever. You couldn't really get a good look at the skyhorse ring from that distance, not with the brief amount of time that Eridan wiggled his pinky finger, but you've had enough past experience having Eridan's various rings flashed in your face for various reasons that you have a good enough mental image of it in your memory... you never would have rated that particular ring as cute, previously, but you are as susceptible as anybody to the inherent melodrama of a sentimental possession gifted from a dead lusus, so obviously, yeah, you have to say that's cute. But not because Eridan said so.

"My lusus never gave me wriggling day presents like that," you say, very ostentatiously not pouting, see, you sniffed so that wasn't a pout at all. Obviously one of the benefits of being born royalty or whatever, having a civilized lusus with gift-giving aptitude beyond that of corpse bequeathal. A bit annoying, actually. Your lusus never gave you so much as an entry-level sickle, that's basically what you’re thinking here. Anyway. You give Eridan a bit of a hard time by briefly attempting to dislodge your ankles from his grip, an attempt which ends in failure. 

Because the ankle escape plan failed, you instead lift one hand from his head so you can shake it as a fist up into the sky. "Whatever. _Anyway._ Cuteness isn't about fashion, you numbnut!"

Since Eridan doesn't get offended or even much fazed when you say that, just continuing to look up at you expectantly if a bit miffed because of your negative cuteness assessment, you decide to continue to schoolfeed him expressly useful cuteness information, putting the one hand back where it was, supreme ruler of Eridan fucking Ampora's stupid uncute head, keeping your fingers running through his black and purple hair which is somehow stupidly soft, way more soft than Terezi's and you suspect that this is because of dumb expensive crap he's putting in it all the time. "Your accent is not uncute," you continue, making this admission grudgingly since it does acknowledge that Eridan has at least one particle of cuteness in his waterlogged soul. "But look at Nepeta. That predator is almost anti-fashion and it is possible she never bathes and, remember, she lives in a fucking _cave._ And her use of cat puns isn't really cute and cat manners are also not really cute, they're annoying! But it's indisputable she's like one of the cutest trolls who ever lived, mostly because she seems to possess some ineffable fucking joie de cute, and mainly if you tried to tell her she was cute she would rear back and try to scratch you. Don't you see?"

Does he get it? You hope he gets it. If you have to go on and on like that you would be skirting dangerously close to cuteness territory yourself, you know it, and you are very conflicted on the very concept of personal cuteness since you like it when Terezi calls you that, even though everyone and their moirail would otherwise acknowledge that she is just dead wrong.

 

“Wwhat exactly am I supposed to be seein here? Cause wwhat I'm seein is that Nep is disgustin an annoyin an wwould scar you for life just for givvin her a compliment. All a that is distinctly un-cute, Kar. How she's still somehow nauseatingly fuckin cute is a mystery.” Ooh, and all of this is just sparking Eridan's newfound caliginous feelings for her. He gives Karkat's feet a couple good shakes to make his point, then tugs one forward a bit to point at his own chest. “I, on the other hand, am perfectly wwillin to acknowwledge my owwn cuteness an wwould thank you for the fuckin compliment. Like so: Thanks, Kar, for sayin my accent's cute.”

His smile is smug now. That's two special people who said his accent was cute. It's undeniable fact. Absently, he begins stroking Kar's ankles with his thumbs, the way Kar's stroking his hair. “An wwhat's more, I'd like to return the compliment. You're fuckin adorable too.”

Now if he wants an explanation, Eridan will be able to give him quite a nice list of things that are cute about him. It's a lot easier to see cute things about other people, after all, than it is to see them in yourself.

 

"Greater trolls than you have tried the cuteness gambit on me, fuckwit." Namely, Terezi. You frown at Eridan's smugness and feel a bit antsy for unknown reasons... you try swinging your feet again, for instance, but nope Eridan's still got them like totally in douche custody, not that you can complain since you basically intended that in order to stake a claim of territorial control over his hair. "I am really not cute," you find yourself saying, protein chute on weird babbling autopilot for some reason, but then whoops you have to let go of Eridan's head altogether and cover your mouth with your two hands, and blush, since fuck that just totally slipped out. "Shit, I should not have fucking said that." 

So now it's apparently time to glare at Eridan, with red, red cheeks. After only a moment you drop your hands from your mouth, since the whole whoops gesture is kind of a big giveaway to your thought process here and you feel somehow tricked, lulled, into having made that completely unnecessary statement which might as well be like shouting to the universe "hey I'm fucking cute" and that makes you pretty much as bad as Eridan, but in an opposite way. Instead of going back for Eridan's hair, you grip hard into the edge of the desk, claws going into the wood, but you no longer fight back for custody of your feet although this doesn't stop Eridan from stopping doing what he was doing, you aren't really sure what it was you hardly even noticed, something with his thumbs or whatever, but you feel bad since you want him to go back to doing whatever that was, it was like really douchy but a very Eridan thing for him to do and the fact that he stopped means well fuck. He wins, basically. 

Whatever the fuck unknown game you got yourself all lulled into, there.

You stop glaring after just one moment, instead looking off to the side and full of tricked confused annoyance. "Huh. Hmph. Well. Just don't call me cute, okay?" You grumble, finally. "It makes me say regrettable things, so fucking don't. Okay?"

 

“God, Kar, that wwas the--” well, shit, 'cute' is off the table; Eridan'll have to think up some other word to use, because all that that Kar just did? And is doing now, especially the uncontrollable blushing and the looking away all flustered? It's the “--most adorable, charmin, darling, dear, an precious thing I'vve evver seen in my life. I think I see wwhat you wwere gettin at.”

He keeps a firm grip on Karkat's ankles, knowing full well he's just endangered himself by calling Kar cute, just in a lot of different ways. But his smile is softer now. “Thanks for not goin for my face wwith those clawws a yours evven after I called you that thing you don't like bein called,” Eridan says, nodding toward Karkat's hands where they're gouging the wood of his fancy writing desk. “That's wwhy Nep's kismesis material an you're m--” Oh fuckin hell, he almost said matesprit material out loud to Kar's face. It's Eridan's turn to blush, mouth open as he panickedly searches for words that are NOT THOSE. “--my good bro. Um. I think. Fuck.”

That wasn't such a great save either, bringing up the bro thing again. Eridan finally lets go of Karkat's ankles and looks away, figuring if he gets kicked in the face now he pretty well asked for it.

 

Oh, well, fuck. This is beyond a clusterfuck at this point. You loosen your grip on Eridan's desk and slowly let go, raising one hand up to cover your eyes and using your other to vaguely wave off Eridan's stupidly awkward babbling which somehow makes things better because at least it makes you even. He's allowed to call you a bro, you never forbid it or anything, and somehow at this precise moment it almost even feels soothingly comforting since at least he stopped listing off all those fucking synonyms for cute, and didn't-

Well, at least he didn't- 

Ughh. You let loose a kind of moaning annoyed yowl of a sigh, a draw-out guttural aaaaaaaaahhhhffffggg of just deflating emotional volatility and somehow you feel very disappointed in yourself for losing the thread of whatever silly fun thing had just been ramping up before the whole cuteness debacle got started.

Like, okay. You're not stupid, in fact you're a genius, and more than that and lest anyone forget, you are the _king of romance,_ and you just can't be fucking king of romance if you are the sort who is willfully oblivious to any sort of flushed or caliginous undertones to things, and so fuck it all to hell, you just have to fucking admit it. Wasn't all that bullshit that just happened sort of the most entry-level dumb kind of flirting ever? Were Terezi around and sniffing this scene out, she would basically be laughing at you, at the both of you, and you couldn't even blame her if she ended up doing so, so at least it's a really great thing that it's just you and Eridan alone here on this fucking island, and well.

Eridan, however, probably doesn't even realize what he was doing, he is always in some kind of non-discriminating mode of desperation which means that it's all basically on you, and that makes you kind of the biggest human sex proboscis ever for leading things into that direction, even though you fucking were doing it 100% entirely unconsciously and it's not really your fault that you're like some kind of troll Romeo or whatever. You repeat to yourself the following mental mantra: it's not his fault, it's not his fault, it's not his fault.

And it really isn't. Weren't you just in stupid covert tears about Ampora's unremitting and straight-up pathetic lonesomeness just minutes ago? Just what sort of a terrible manipulative romance god are you? That was so fucking uncool and you have no idea why you did any of that. All you know is that you should keep your guard up and be nicer to Eridan, he's basically like at Tavros-levels of confidence on the romance scale and you need to keep that shit firmly at the forefront of your fucking mind at all fucking times. At all times. Fuck.

Time to get your shit together, and troll up. You take a nice long deep calming breath, and open your eyes and make sure the expression on your face is fucking chill as Faygo. Eridan is not looking at you, and you can see full well the stain of violet in his cheeks, and it's like examining some especially pathetic disabled wriggler who just is completely fucking hopeless and you feel really, really bad. "Ah, no," you say, and you reach out and place just one hand on the top of his head now, firmly and comfortingly and very, very consciously not flirtatiously or anything, damn your devilish charms. You pet him gently. "No, we're bros. We can't go all shipping grid and not be bros again, it's just not doable or possible." 

So, see? Maybe things are salvageable after all. "I just am terrible for being cute," you say and manage to paste a wry smile on your face. "It's some kind of disease on me I guess. It's something Terezi makes fun of me for all the time, and I'm kind of sensitive about it, that's all."

 

Eridan nods, looking Karkat in the face again. “Got it. I'm sorry, I didn't knoww Ter had cornered the market on teasin you about that, an I don't wwant to go pokin you wwhere you're already sore.” He can keep his cuteness observations to himself.

Along with other embarrassing and unwelcome thoughts, like all these flushed feelings that just are refusing to go away. 

“An thanks for bein my best fuckin bro. I knoww you didn't say that, but I'm sayin it—you've always been my best bro, Kar. An you should knoww I appreciate it.” He smiles, still feeling rather awkward. There's a different, more restrained quality to Karkat's touch now, and while Eridan's really goddamn grateful to be able to consider Kar his bro again without questioning if it's really true or not, he can't help feeling a little bittersweet twinge at the knowledge that it's nothing but platonic. 

“Anywway, wwhere'd that shippin grid go? Did wwe finish it? I wwant that shit up on my wwall wwith the rest a the drawwins; it's too fuckin awwesome not to hang up.”

 

Shiiiiiiitt. That didn't fix anything. For a moment your eyes widen. It's obvious you made Eridan's self-respect take another tiny dive, somehow, and you have to remember that he is a super-sensitive freak who not only reads into shit that isn't even there, he is often preternaturally able to read all the real as fuck discouraging, isolating subtext to shit as well. No wonder he got himself all fucked up, back then. It's insulting for you to forget that. Shit. Shit.

Now you're covering both eyes with both hands, and curling in on yourself, furiously thinking, and hoping like hell that your thinking won't get fucking overtaken by the stupid-ass waves of your dumb emotions. Fucking hell, Karkat Vantas, you are better than this. Or at least, you want to be.

Options. Think fast, Vantas. Obviously pretending like everything is fine and just going along with things just went to shit, right down the fucking drain, the second you didn't just fake-smile and fake-pet him some more in some condescending and fake-coolbro way as you saunter like a huge cocky douche to go tape up that idiotic shipping grid. Fine. You are not some fakeass jerk chump anyway, that's not your game, never has been. Just... overinflated ego and sense of importance, yeah, to hide all of your crippling insecurities and crap. _Yeah, Jade, I know,_ you think into this blackness of your mind. _I know._

Great, now you're leaking tears and this isn't some elegant silent Kanaya cryfest, this is stuffy nose territory and the tears are dripping between your fingers and god you suck, Vantas. A lot. You are such a coward. Your hands are shaking, your lower lip quivering. Fuck. This isn't cool. You're better than... no. You're not this... no. You're a horrible person. Yes. 

Don't... don't let’s you and me pretend you're not the biggest ass who ever hatched, Vantas. Don't.

With one hand, you blindly sweep over the desktop surface at your side, feeling for the fucking shipping grid which is actually _right fucking there,_ Eridan, come on, he did not even have to pretend to wonder where this lame shit was when it was _right fucking there._ Your hand hits paper, you accidentally crumple it for a second as you grab it into your fist and then wave it in front of you, in Eridan's general direction as you keep your eyes otherwise shut tight to minimize the dumb tears collecting in the hollow of your hand, the other one, the one still fucking pasted to your face. When Eridan doesn't grab for it right away, you start blindly punching your fist forward in what you imagine to be the general direction of one of his hands, first softly hitting his jaw and then his shoulder and then elbow and eventually you get to hand territory, at which point you press the crumpled paper at his fist, pushing but becoming increasingly frustrated when he doesn't just _take it_ instantly, and so you drop the paper with disgust, letting it flutter to the ground as you grab his fist, pulling it over to your face. You sob into that instead. 

Fucking douchebag. Making you cry and shit. Eridan Ampora fucking sucks. 

Yeah, that's better. That's fucking honesty.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A real honest-to-god feelings jam, and some fakey fake blackrom! Featuring sloppy makeouts! Enjoy! :)

_Oh. Oh, god. Oh, fuckin... fuck, what's all this?_ Eridan has no idea how to react at first: somehow he's made Kar all crumple in on himself and he's fuckin crying now, and this is pretty much the exact opposite of how he wanted to make Kar feel with that platonic admission, he swears, and he should say something, should move, or at least take the damn shipping grid that Kar's thrusting at him, but the panic is making it hard to do any stupid bloody thing at all, so he's just sitting there dumbly, frozen, thinking _fuck fuck shit fuck goddamn fuckin ME_ while Karkat melts the fuck down.

Until Kar takes Eridan's hand and pulls it to his face. Fuck, the grid can wait. Eridan's own eyes start prickling hotly as he feels the wet warmth of Kar's tears on his skin, Kar's hand and lip both trembling. Now so is Eridan's hand, but he's trying to force himself to move, to do something about all this. He strokes his fingers over Kar's cheek, trying to wipe the tears away even as more spill. Like trying to stop the rain; it's not going to work.

His eyes are brimming when he finally manages to find his voice. “Kar, don't, please, I don't fuckin knoww wwhat the fuck I said, but I'm sorry. God, I am so sorry, don't... don't cry. I'm the wworst at navvigatin social interactions, Kar, an I swwear I didn't mean to hurt you.” 

It's not working; he's still fucking things up. So Eridan gets to his feet and awkwardly wraps Kar up in his free arm, giving him a firm hug. “Shhh, Kar, I wwanna fix this, but you gotta tell me howw.”

He gives Kar what he thinks is a good bro-like pap on the back, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth to stop himself crying. It just makes the standing tears finally spill, making pale violet tracks down his cheeks. Fuckin bloody hell. Maybe it's not something he said, maybe it's something he did? Fuck, Eridan's done so much awful bullshit it's hard to know what he should apologize for.

How about all of it? 

Eridan holds Karkat gently, just in case he wants to push him away, and takes a deep wavery breath. This might just ruin things up even more than they already are, but he's been needing to say it for sweeps. “I don't knoww wwhat's got you so upset, but I got something to say that I shoulda said a long time ago. I tried ovver Trollian but I don't knoww if you evver read any a my messages; anywway noww I got you here an... an I just need to tell you face to face howw fuckin sorry I am for evverythin. I got no excuses for wwhat I did. An I'm trying to fix things. I knoww you said wwe're bros again, an that's pretty much more than I should havve hoped for, but if you're havvin second thoughts now, I get it. I do. Just givve me another chance to make things right? Kar? I'm sorry. Please stop cryin.”

There, that's all he's got, all he can think to say or do. Now he just has to hold his breath and hold on to Kar and wait, and stupidly hope that'll somehow make it right.

 

At the word 'Trollian,' you just start sobbing harder, aggravated with yourself and with fucking Eridan Ampora too because he continues to fucking suck, and that really isn't the kind of comforting nugget of information you wish it would be, because when someone sucks usually you just get to be really angry at them and start yelling a lot and it's pretty much totally refreshing. This what you are feeling right now is not refreshing. 

There should really be some kind of awards ceremony grand prize for whatever bullshit Ampora is doing to you right now, and your thoughts get pretty vicious and testy, with yourself and with him and with fate and with stupid lifelong ~ath curse-viruses and also with John Fucking Egbert, since well he should be inserted into all especially furious thoughts you have, basically on principle, and no one is allowed to even try to sway you to think otherwise. You try to remind yourself that you did not, in fact, come out here to appoint yourself as Eridan's fucking romantic rehabilitation specialist, nor did you set out to fix all of his many fucking retarded personality problems, such as _this one right now_ , where he assumes your tears are all his own fucking fault in some kind of deranged and perversely impressive delusional sense of self-importance which might actually make you laugh if you weren't more feeling inclined to rip up and/or chew things to atomic smithereens. 

It really, really, really hurts thinking about all those times you out-and-out ignored Eridan's admittedly shitty, awkward attempts at apology. 

Maybe it is a bit vague and unclear, even to yourself, what your own personal motivations are for being out here, actually, but you're damn well fucking sure that you did _not_ come out with the motive to make Eridan fucking Ampora cry, as you clearly are doing right now. What right would you even have, making him cry, when he happens to be a person you flagrantly, horribly ignored out of nothing more than an overinflated and egotistical sense of personal betrayal? Why ever the fuck? 

You can feel the stupid shaking in Eridan's body as he holds you close, and you can feel the warmth from his stupid chest, and basically his continued broken apologies are _infuriating_. He doesn't understand at all. Not one fucking bit.

Well, perhaps it is time to make him understand. Eventually your pansy-ass tearfulness sort of cuts back to some kind of manageable level, and so you take a step back, while still holding on to Eridan's stupid hand, and you look up from that hand of his which you have baptized in like a million shitty candy-red tears, and yep, there they are, the stupid purple tears streaking down his own fucking face, and it hurts, a lot, that he asked for you to give him a second chance. Stupid fucking Eridan Ampora. Fuck. Fucking fuckitty fuck fuck fuck.

Beyond annoyed, you take a brief and minorly satisfying moment to nip at the fleshy side of Ampora's hand, not biting hard enough to break the skin or anything, but enough to fucking sting. You stare hard into his stupid crying eyes. "Listen to me, asshole," you mumble, and you can feel that your cheeks are probably not only stained with your tears, but also flushed with more ridiculous embarrassment. "I'm mad at _myself_ and there's really nothing else to fucking say."

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Ampora's stupid thermal hull, and since it's here in his fucking respiteblock that can mean only one thing. How fucking fortuitous. 

Still leaking all sorts of dumb tears but whatever you are going to ignore them, you keep a firm grip on Eridan's hand, the one you helpfully bit just a second ago, and stomp over to the fucking thermal hull and kick it open. A whole bunch of shitty fakey fake magic wands tumble out. Good. "Stay put," you command Eridan, letting go of his hand so you can drop to your knees and sort of push all of the wands to the center of the room, and maybe your blush gets a bit blushier as you open your mouth, careful not to look upwards. "I only ever usually do this with Terezi or Gamz, but..."

 

Eridan's so confused as he watches Karkat going for his refrigerator, gripping his hand tightly. Mad at himself? Kar said that was all there was to say, but... why? And did that mean he really wasn't even mad at Eridan at all til he misunderstood what all the fuckin tears were about? He's really not sure if that makes him feel better or worse, since he still managed to make a royal mess out of things either way.

Maybe he should warn Kar that there's still nothing in that refrigerator but a whole bunch of shitty wands, but it looks like he was expecting that anyway. For once Eridan does as he's told and stays put. 

Eridan's damp eyes widen as he realizes what Karkat's doing. He's making a pile, a comforting pile of spectacularly shitty wands. And...

“Oh god. Kar.” Eridan has to wipe at his face as a fresh wave of tears fall. Karkat wants to have a feelings jam. With him. It's a huge fuckin deal, considering it's something Kar only does with Ter and Gam, who share quadrants with him. And it's even more overwhelming since Eridan can't even remember the last time he had a proper feelings jam with anyone. Even back when he and Fef were moirails, they didn't really talk about their feelings all that much. His talks with Kar about all his romantic troubles were as close as he ever got to a feelings jam, but they never went this far. This is more important. More intimate. 

“Are you sure you wwant to do this? I'm really fuckin touched, an I really wwant to, but... You don't havve to do this.”

 

This calls for an Egbert moment. You close your eyes tightly, and point at the pile. You will not be denied. "Get in the fucking pile!" 

And you just fucking stay like that while Eridan mumbles a few more uncertain, hesitant little things, ignoring him completely until you finally hear the sound of shuffling feet and then the sound of his royal doucheyness lowering himself into the pile of shitty wands, which are so incredibly shitty and therefore obviously great for feelings jams (although clearly not as great as fucking scalemates which are actually fucking comfortable to lie around in). When you finally open your eyes again Eridan is looking all confused and shit and somehow of course he is crying even more, and so you kind of wade into the wand pile and think about the fact that this entire troll custom of pile jams is pretty much the dumbest fucking thing your culture ever created. 

"Come here," you beckon, since Eridan seems to be looking a little lost and unsure what to do next and suddenly it occurs to you that he probably hasn't even fucking done this before, not in an actual pile anyway, and that causes your hyperactive little bloodpusher to tense up like some kind of ghost-fist is squeezing around it, because wow, sad. Lame, considering how it's probably been some kind of moronical lifelong dream of his, but also sad. You can't deal with any more fucking sad right now. Eridan sort of shifts closer and you sigh and have some kind of brief poisonous thoughts that would involve more biting of Eridan but you get that under control and well, if you're going to do this you'll do it right. You lean forward and put your forehead onto his, pressing into him all nice and proper and shit, and place your fingers on each side of his face. Fuck, Gamzee would be so proud of you right now... he knows how much you loathe all this sappy bullshit better than anyone, and yet here you are, doing it anyway.

Sollux, on the other hand...

Well, whatever. Sollux is responsible for most of your earthly woes so who cares the fuck what he would say (or rather, do, since almost certainly he'd break off into some really nasty rude gigglesnorts, laughing at Eridan obviously but laughing so much fucking more at you). Fuck Sollux Captor. Fuck him from now until the end of the universe. Worst best friend, ever. 

You are not really ready to get all loungey here in the pile yet, so you don't lie down or push Eridan into lying down, either, but whatever flirty intimate nonsense you two were sharing earlier will be completely controverted by the traditional rules of feelings jams, which is good because then you can be all bro-like with Eridan without it feeling exceptionally weird or anything. You close your eyes, sigh again (kind of prickishly), and realize that your tears have more or less stopped, but you're still gulping and sniffling, and your face remains unnaturally warm, and mostly you really, really fucking hate feelings jams but how else are you going to get through Eridan's epically thick think pan?

Time to get this motherfucking show on the road, you guess.

"Hey," you say, finally, awkwardly. Well, no one ever said you were good at this shit. "Um. Feelings, yeah. Go." You swallow. "I mean, go ahead." 

 

Shit. Wow. This is probably the tenderest thing anyone's ever done to Eridan before, this forehead-pressing and face-cupping thing Kar's doing. It really is soothing his nerves. And it's fuckin reassuring, 'cause if they weren't bros again, close bros even, then there's no way Kar would be doing something like this with him.

Eridan swallows thickly. Kar wants him to share his feelings now, so he is fuckin going to. “I don't really knoww wwhere to start,” he admits, shifting a little in the pile with a clink of wood against polished wood. “Wwhat feelins do you wwant to hear about? Howw I'm feelin right now? I guess kind of nervvous. An confused. I don't see wwhy you wwere mad at yourself; I mean if there's anyone to be mad at it's me on account a so many reasons. But you'vve done nothin wwrong, Kar.”

He blinks, trying to see Karkat more clearly through the embarrassing haze of tears welling up again. “I'm so fuckin relievved wwe're bros again, but I guess I'm not sure if... if that means you'll forgivve me for all the awwful shit I'vve done? That might be askin too much is wwhat I'm afraid of. Fuck, it's hard sayin all this, evven in an honest to god feelins jam in a real pile an everything.”

 

You grimace and grit your teeth all badass-like but not in a mean way because you are going to get this bros thing going again for real, if it's the fucking last thing you ever do. This shit is so, so tricky. You can't really just blurt out that you were feeling bad because you're such an obnoxiously talented troll Romeo and worse, that you feel bad for leaving Eridan alone all this time since obviously in the interim of your absence Eridan has sort of devolved emotionally and no, you still don't plan on making yourself responsible for his emotional recovery, but whatever that doesn't even matter. Eridan is important to you, you just have to fucking admit it, you guys had been bros forever, ever since Terezi introduced him to you all that long time ago, back when you and he used to shoot the breeze online for hours and hours, just killing time while your respective girlfriends (okay wanna be girlfriend on your part back then) were off being stupid Team Scourge Flarpers off in retarded Team Scourge extreme flarping land. 

Might as well get your fucking disclosure on. "I... well, suck," you say a bit solemnly with only minimal irritability detectable in your voice. Of course you know that Eridan is pretty much going to disagree, look he just fucking opened his mouth in protest which looks really silly with all those tears running down his face. You start wiping away his tears, carefully and thoroughly. "You're not allowed to disagree with me on this, it's pretty much proven fact although it is also true that I have many wonderful and godlike compensatory qualities which is why I am our group's leader forever even though whatever, that's not really necessary anymore." Since you are in sacred feelings jam space, it totally won't be misconstrued at all if you get even more sappily physical, so you lean in and press your lips to Eridan's douchey face, right there on his cheek over top of some drying teardrops. " _Anyway_ I was crying because I saw how lonely you were all of a sudden, and it made me feel bad because I stopped talking to you for all that time." Here's another bro-like kiss, on the opposite cheek. Your voice maybe breaks a little, but who's noticing? You're not noticing. You continue: "Although in my mind I think you kind of really fucked up back then, and I guess I will always be a bit mad and/or irritated with you for that, you're still my friend even if you're not my best fucking friend, okay?" 

You should have at least maybe dropped a fucking note now and then.

At this point you sniffle a little more, your nose just completely fucked with tear-induced stuffiness, and so you go ahead and put your face on his douchey vestments, right on the shoulder, and aggressively (and yeah kind of provocatively, since you know this irritates him, this point has been stipulated for the record your Honorable Tyranny but well you do feel like punishing Eridan a bit for making you cry and shit). You wipe your face into his clothes and then just sort of lean into him and stay there, for now.

 

“Yeah, okay, Kar.” And Eridan means it. They can disagree on how much Kar sucks, and Eridan can even keep it to himself how much he thinks Kar doesn't. That chaste little kiss on his cheek is enough to keep Eridan quiet on the matter. And it's okay that Kar's going to be kind of mad at him forever for fucking things up so badly, because they're still friends even so. And it's damn fuckin touching that Kar felt bad for him in his loneliness. Even though Eridan knows now that he brought that on himself, it's still pretty amazing that Kar saw, and that he understands how hard it is to be alone. 

Since this is a feelings jam, Eridan feels like maybe he should let Karkat know how much that means to him. Honestly, he might have said it anyway; nobody could say that Eridan fuckin Ampora doesn't voice his appreciation where it's bloody well due. But he thinks saying this stuff in a real pile lends it a certain weight. “Thanks for that. It feels fuckin good to knoww you're my friend. Means I'm not alone, evven wwhen you go awway again.”

Eridan sniffs, nasal ducts as tear-stuffy as Karkat's sound, though there aren't any more tears. In fact, he's smiling again, if just a little, even when Karkat starts wiping his face all over his shoulder and therefore getting all that red-tinged tear- and snot-fluid all over his fancy fuckin vestments. He gives a loud and appropriately disgusted groan, but gathers Karkat closer to him anyway. “If that stains you owwe me a neww fuckin badass cape. An not a cheap piece a shit one either; has to be made a high-quality material befittin royalty.”

 

"Sure I'll just get you a cape made of pure 100% unadulterated magic," you say, since well why not. "It'll be the highest quality cape ever, coming directly from the handiwork of tiny little fucking magical pupa-fairies." 

Before Eridan can say anything in response, you reach up to put your hand over his mouth to forestall the inevitable tirade about the 'disreality' of magic, and you smile-smirk when he tries to talk around your fingers anyway but then almost immediately stops. 

Good. His shutting up allows you to think about the rest of what Eridan just said. A part of you wants to ask why Eridan doesn't just go and visit people himself, but it's tediously predictable how he would likely give you the same basic answer that he did when you spoke to him about leaving his stupid angel murderland to spend time with other friends, back then during your short but memorable time in Sgrub, and anyway (you cannot remind yourself of this too much) you are not here to fucking fix him. That means you don't need to follow up on the emo subtext of every goddamn thing he ever says, and anyway it's kind of relaxing and nice to have mer-troll here holding you with his stupid cape all acting like a curtain of warmth around your body. 

But there is one thing you should check in about, before letting yourself get too comfortable... "You're, er, not into genocide or epic murder doomsday scenarios anymore, are you?"

 

Eridan shakes his head, chin brushing against Karkat's spiky tufts of hair. “No, I'd rather leavve mistakes like that a thing a the past.”

Even he knows that the genocide and doomsday scenarios he visited on his friends were the worst mistakes he ever made; didn't he just apologize for all that murdering and matriorb-destroying? And if he were to do that shit in this new world, who would be left in it after? Just him and Fef? While Eridan has to admit he still finds that not a completely unattractive outcome, it still would turn the world into a mostly damn upright lonely place to be. At least with everyone alive he has a chance to talk to them once in a while, til they brush him off anyway. … This is actually pretty much the reason he never acted on the one doomsday plot that would have worked back on Alternia, even though he knew full well how to kill all landdwellers if he'd really meant to. Turned out getting close to the enemy was more satisfying than he'd imagined. Eridan's older now, more experienced, much more mature he thinks, and he realizes that the landdwellers and lowbloods aren't the scum he always made them out to be. 

“Don't get me wwrong, I still maintain that Fef an I are royal as all bloody hell an deservvin a admiration, but lowwbloods an landdwellers ain't half bad either is all. Some might evven be deservvin a admiration too.” That's about as high praise as has ever slipped past Eridan's lips, and Kar better fuckin appreciate it. Especially since he definitely was talking about him there.

He relaxes in the pile of wands, despite how uncomfortably the wooden sticks are poking him in awkward places, getting lulled by Karkat's warmth and weight. Kar all curled up into him is like being covered in a cozy layer of sopor. It's beyond comforting.

 

"Okay, just checking." That's what you fucking figured. And then it's almost like Eridan fucking reads your mind and your fucking relaxy-ass-ness since he lays back into the wands and yes you really approve of this because this way he's supporting your weight and therefore the number of shitty wands poking into your own body becomes pretty minimal. "Mrmm nice." 

Someday you'll ask Eridan why he acquired all of these shitty and nearly identical wands in the first place- you'd think that one should have been enough, but whatever. You definitely are not asking this now, though, since you suspect there are multiple epic pirate tales involved and you'll probably regret wanting to know the moment he opens his mouth. Anyway, time to disclose some important facts. "I packed some movies and things," you mention, being very casual since you still don't want to give the impression that you planned for capital-B Boredom. "Not for now or anything, but maybe for tomorrow. There are a couple I haven't seen yet. Let's watch at least one of those. I want to watch movies."

It's in fact extremely critical for you to finally watch troll Say Anything which is one of those legendary classic romcoms you've been meaning to watch forever but never were able to find any copies of since it is so classic and legendary, but now you have a copy thanks to Kanaya who has a surprisingly good (if small) collection of old films like that and it's nice that she loaned it to you even though she knew you were coming out to see Eridan and was all, "oh great, him" when you told her. Eridan has rearranged his douchebag cape right over your body after lying back and yeaahhh that is very nice and relaxing. You can kind of sort of (okay not really) see why he wears a cape now. 

And okay fuck, what the hell--Eridan smells _good_. Why in the hell didn't anyone tell you that before; fuck, why didn't you yourself _notice_ it before? It's fucking heavenly or some shit, and you'd think this would be some important fucking information to know since it kind of helps to modify or at least mitigate some of his most offensive offensiveness simply by virtue of making him smell like fresh fucking flowers or something. 

Ha ha wait, is this scent actually rose you are smelling? Could he seriously be wearing a rose-scented fragrance because of Rose? Oh god of course he could. Probably is. You'd like to report this information to Terezi right away but of course, no way are you actually getting up and breaking this absurdly relaxing feelings jam right now.

Because, well... that boat ride here had been pretty long and exhausting okay? You're entitled to being lazy after all that fucking boat-steering you did and are firmly attached to your current state of practically heroic sloth. 

"Also, if it's nice out, you can take me out on your fucking boat if you want," you decide to add, after a moment. "Show me your whole fucking ocean." This is the kind of bro-like sacrifice you are willing to make. You rub your face into Eridan's shoulder some more, getting comfortable.

 

“Tomorrow can be movvie night, then. Or day,” Eridan agrees. He isn't as excited about films as Karkat is, and action films are more his style, but he appreciates a good romance story now and then. My Best Friend's Wedding, for instance, was pretty damn good even though the ending left a lot to be desired. Obviously Jules and Michael were _hatched_ for each other; it should have been _fate_ that they ended up together in the end. Anyway, he's interested to see what Karkat's brought to watch.

Maybe he'll get to snuggle up with Kar again, too, all comfortable together on Eridan's nice plush purple and teal couch in front of the viewing screen. He sighs at that thought, closing his eyes as he half-buries his face in Karkat's hair. Kar's really a lot more snuggly than you'd think a troll so full of sharpness and rough edges would be. Maybe this cuddling thing is only for feelings jams though... just in case that's true, Eridan's going to savor the fuck out of this.

And he's going to remember that Kar said he'd go sailing with him if the weather permits. He hugs Karkat a little tighter, already getting excited about showing him around all the best parts of his island and reefs. The whole fuckin ocean would take more time than they have, probably...

More time... that means more Karkat. The small smile on Eridan's face turns into a full-on shark-toothed grin. “Wwait... Kar, if wwe're makin all these plans for tomorroww, that means you're stayin longer than just today an tonight.”

It probably even means he'll be staying one more night, considering how long it takes to boat back to the mainland. Eridan doesn't like the idea of Kar sailing in his little dinghy in the dark, and if they're going to be watching movies and sailing around his waters tomorrow it might get late enough that Kar'll have to wait to leave. Maybe. He wonders if Karkat has thought of this. Selfishly, Eridan decides to keep quiet and just see how events pan out tomorrow. It might sneak up on Kar and then, whoops, he'll have to sleep over one more time.

 

"Well, yeah," you say, leaving off the 'duh' because you pretty much already reconciled yourself to this idea. Although now that you're here it really isn't turning out to be as bad as you feared, hanging out just you and Eridan: that whole shipping grid thing was basically the best fun ever and now you're already thinking of schemes on how to make Eridan spades Nepeta a reality. When Eridan cuddles you closer you respond in kind, burying your face in his shoulder and chest as much as you can because he is shockingly warm and that feels quite nice and you get to smell all the smells, and it makes you think about Terezi. Terezi would want you to memorize this so you can tell her alllllll about it when you get back (this is definitely not the kind of thing you'd do on chat with Eridan watching over your shoulder!), so you kind of surreptitiously inhale deeply, just to get it down.

Somehow, for some reason, you start thinking about Eridan's time with Serket back in the olden days. You... you never asked Eridan how far they'd gotten, back then, and Eridan had always contented himself with giving only the vaguest, teasingest hints. Once upon a time that used to drive you fucking crazy, like not with lust or anything--gosh gross--but just it made you so wide-eyed thinking about how someone _you actually knew_ was already in this great kismesis relationship already. You always wanted to know as much as possible because at the time you were pretty much frequently lost in fantasies about your own future kismesis, whoever that might turn out to be, and you really wanted it to be something grand and epic. You had been such a hate-date idealist back then.

Would it be alright to ask about it now? Like, normally in a feelings jam that would be more than okay, but you are a bit stymied since Eridan's own probable lack of experience in these things might make him more than reticent--he might find it really disturbing that you'd even ask him about that. You are surprised to find that it bothers you, a little, to think that he might have some disappointed reaction in you if you ask, because fuck that shit, you're fucking awesome, and immediately you are irritated by your own hesitations and, well. With Eridan's body so close and present and available what better time would there to be to find out the exact degree of concupiscent conjugality experience Eridan, who otherwise is like the biggest loser re: romance ever, actually has?

"Tell me about you and... ah, Vvris," you say finally, purposefully using his lameass nickname for her in order to make sure he gets exactly what you're asking here, since you are going to try be a bit delicate here, just in case. "Your... private stuff." You sort of feel yourself heating up since belatedly it occurs to you that it sounds like you just want fantasy fodder for your unrealizable Egbert feelings and well, that wouldn't actually be wrong. "I mean, since we're here and all, and having feeling jams... and all."

 

Eridan's face flares violet. He laughs softly. “Wwoww, Kar, you're still wwonderin about all that?”

He thought maybe he'd gotten away with skirting around giving details. Teasing hints at what was a robust and very active kismesissitude between him and Vvris always left a lot to the imagination... the reality was a lot less impressive and a lot more embarrassing than Eridan wanted anyone to know, especially Karkat. More embarrassing still was the fact that while he'd led Karkat to believe it was a real kismesissitude, in reality it was sort of an unspoken not-really-dating kind of thing between them. The feelings had been real, though! 

God, Eridan does not want to admit all of that. Apparently everything gets shared in a feelings jam, though, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself further by making some idiotic misstep in the pile that only a fuckin wriggler would make. Also, if he's worried about lookin cool in front of Kar, he's pretty much already well and truly totally blown that as it is, what with all the waterworks earlier.

So he takes a deep breath, or as deep a breath as he can while covered in Karkat, and starts in. “Wwe wwere fuckin hot pitch for each other for a wwhile there. An things got pretty intense, for us bein so young. I suppose you wwant details a wwhat all wwe did?”

Good fuckin thing Kar can't see him right now; it makes this at least marginally easier to just go ahead and share. Eridan stares at his ceiling, painted a nice smooth and soothing lavender color, and thinks back to his former black flame. “Wwe had a really fuckin good sloppy makeout once or twwice. An a feww that wweren't so great... I mean, I think kissin a kismesis is supposed to invvolvve a lot a teeth an be kinda painful, right? Vvris could be upright vvicious, though, I mean I fuckin had fang marks on my neck an shoulder for ages a feww times! Not that I didn't givve her some marks in kind, a course.”

Fuck hickeys, kismeses went for blood! At least, that's how he and Vriska had thought it was supposed to be. Anyway, now that Eridan's talking, he's on a bit of a roll. It might even be nice, sharing all this intimate gossip with someone he trusts. And he trusts Karkat above anyone else with this kind of information.

“One time it got so hot an heavvy, wwe wwent so far as to take off our clothes. Vvris only let me touch her a little before wwe stopped though. An after I evven let her get her clawws all up on my gills! Let me tell you, that wwas a fuckin mistake. I nevver should havve done that; she had no idea howw to handle such delicate organs.” Eridan bites back the customary 'fuckin lousy landdwwellers' comment, even though it actually sort of even applies in this case. “Maybe it's a good thing wwe nevver wwent further than that...”

Who knows what kind of excruciating embarrassment would have awaited had Eridan had to call things off in the middle because it fuckin hurt too much? Good thing is he doesn't even have to think about it anymore; that relationship's over.

Eridan can feel whatever blood wasn't already in his face rushing up there now, as he realizes he's just basically told Kar he's a fuckin virgin. A blushing one, even, godfuckindamnit. Seeing as his relationship with Vvris was the only concupiscent quadrant he'd ever sort-of had filled, and it never got consummated. Maybe Kar didn't notice that's what he just implied. “Anywway, wwe wwere kids. Stupid kids foolin around doin stupid stuff that felt good. That's all there is to say about that.”

 

So? What's wrong about wondering? Eridan's slight laugh at the beginning had you sort of stifling some outraged spluttering commentary at first, because it pretty much felt like he was laughing at you and although it was clearly good-natured laughter, it's not like you want to be laughed at, ever, for the fact that Eridan had pretty much always been your kismesis hero. (Not that he even knows). 

And well, fuck, nothing he says changes the fact of his kismesis herodom, because you think you probably would have been put off and weirded out if they'd actually gone all the fucking way when they were that young. You rearrange yourself on Eridan's body, discretely trying to get your hips into a more comfortable and less pressing-into-him way because suddenly you have an awareness of the general location and presence of his bone bulge and well, you need to not be having that awareness. It needs to stop fucking immediately. 

The little details are real nice, though. What a wonderful first-blush kismesissitude that had obviously been, and it just makes your stalwart shipper's bloodpusher sniffle (metaphorically) a bit in sadness over the fact that it never went any further. It really could have been--should have been!--so legendary. And now Serket has to content herself with a fourth-rate part-time kismesis in Tavros, just because she can't face the fact that at best she's only suited for him in two quadrants and black isn't really one of them. So preposterous and pathetic. You very purposefully do not think about the unacknowledged black tensions between her and Terezi... that's a whole other kettle of fish. But back to Eridan. "That sounds just like a movie," you say, voice quiet and low, with just a shade of wistfulness for What Might Have Been. 

It would have been such a great movie, too... one of those ultimate tear-jerkers with lots of flashback scenes. Like one of those really fancy independent films full of oh la la frankness about pailing. You imagine a somewhat tinier (and way more grumpy and frowny) Eridan, taking off all his clothes... or maybe Vriska did that for him? Or possibly she ripped them off? It would have been cool if she sliced them off with a sword, particularly a jeweled sword. And maybe Vriska's schooner would be like all in flames on the water and they'd be on a beach (yes, the _beach_ , and not some fucking lighthouse!) making out sloppily and hurling juvenile and predictably awful insults at each other since they both always kind of sucked at that. The idea is amusing but also strangely hot. If only things with John had gone in that direction...

Bluh. In a weird prickly state combining moroseness, wistfulness, and romantic idealism, you absently start touching Eridan's sides over top of his shirt, idly feeling for the gills he just mentioned without planning on feeling him up or anything. Just to, you know, locate them. "I wonder what it's like to have gills," you say, yawning a bit. "Like, for me. 'f I had some."

 

Kind of sounds like Kar's imagining a much cooler movie than the awkward coming-of-age load of bull kelp that actually happened. Maybe if it was like an actiony pirate movie with a kismesissitude smoldering into flame through it, it'd be fuckin awesome. It kind of was, in real life. For the most part, Eridan remembers his exploits in blackrom with Vvris fondly; they had a good thing going, at least until Vvris got bored of him or wwhatevver. And they did a whole lot of amazing piratey shit together FLARPing. He kind of misses that.... In any case, Eridan's got to admit he's pleasantly surprised by how Kar's taking all of his embarrassing revelations.

He's pulled from his thoughts as he feels Karkat's hands moving over his sides, sliding gently over the slight ridges of his tightly sealed gills. It feels nice. Maybe it's the layer of clothing between Kar's fingers and his gills, but Eridan isn't afraid Karkat will hurt him or anything, even accidentally. Instead the sensation is kind of distractingly good. His gills are pretty sensitive, after all. 

But all this closeness and cuddling and touching is probably just part of the real feelings jam experience, and Eridan thinks he's been doing a really good job of not reading into any of it, even in a wishful-thinking sort of way. So it's probably a really inappropriate thing to do in the sanctity of the fuckin pile, wishing that Kar would slip his hands up under his shirt and do a little more thorough exploring.

Eridan'll just not think about that and answer Kar's sleepy question instead. “I don't knoww, Kar. If you had gills they'd be about here, an here, an here,” he says, hands moving over Karkat's sides and tracing gill slits on each side with a gentle claw. “Wwhen you're out a the wwater, they'd be closed cause you don't need them. Then wwhen you do get yourself good an submerged, they open up an take wwater in an you breathe that way. Alwways feels a bit wweird at first, for me, but I don't spend a lot a time underwwater, you knoww?”

He smiles, imagining Karkat with gills, breathing underwater. “It'd be pretty fuckin awwesome if you could go swwimmin wwith me an breathe like a seadwweller. I could showw you a lot more tomorroww that away.”

 

Yeah, speaking of that. It's pretty weird, actually, that Eridan never really spent hardly any time underwater, not even back on Alternia. Especially since Feferi was pretty much always there. "You didn't visit Feferi?" you ask absently, continuing to stroke along Eridan's kind of stupidly sleek body. You guess he doesn't eat much and you don't blame him, if all that he eats is fucking fish.

Huh. Well, actually, that's kind of an unnecessarily awkward and emotionally fraught question, isn't it. You sit up, a bit suddenly, but force yourself to stay calm. "Ahh, never mind, I don't actually care," you say, tone lazy and purposefully indifferent. In order to make that statement not seem like an emotional slap in the face, either, you crawl on top of Eridan so you're sitting on him, looking down with a fully non-shithive flustered (and hopefully smolderingly curious?) smile, since... well. This is a good excuse to go back to the Serket bullshit, isn't it? You're not opposed to that. "I want to know more about Vriska."

You stretch your arms above your head, acting like you're working out the kinks in your shoulders but really it's just a show, something you learned when you first started fooling around proper with Terezi. Not that you're fooling around here, though. This is waaaaaaaay fucking different. "You know, I'm a blackrom fanatic," you confess, since otherwise Eridan's going to find it strange and unsettling how you keep dwelling on this even though you're not about to start calling him your blackrom hero. "I had..." you swallow. "...have... some Egbert thoughts occasionally, you know. Like, what ifs. But all I know is from movies and books." 

Um. Wow. This is actually waaay more embarrassing to say out loud than you expected, even though you'd already spilled all the confessional information which ought to make this admission less awkward. Maybe it's because Eridan is looking up at you with his stupid sharp fish prince eyes and for once you can't really read what he's thinking. Even though usually he's pretty fucking easy to read. You blush, but then rally, managing to glare at him indignantly, hopefully ominously, sort of warning him not to smile at what you're saying like the fucking irritating superior douche he really can be, sometimes. "I'm gonna... can I. Um. Do you mind if I ask some more direct questions?" 

Waaay smooth, Vantas. You pretend you don't blush more and ramp up your glare instead.

 

Okay, there is no fuckin way Kar doesn't know how incredibly hot he is being right now, all sitting right on top of Eridan and stretching and smiling like that. And glaring, but fuck if that isn't hot too. It's not his fault he wants to reach out and touch the muscles Karkat just stretched out, run his hands over Kar's compact frame. No, that's upright inappropriate. Eridan's got to get a handle on himself before he does something stupid. 

Especially since it's blackrom Karkat wants to hear about; all these distinctly redrom feelings Eridan's having for him aren't part of this at all. Kar probably just wants some good true to life kismesissitude scenarios to fantasize over while he thinks of John. All right. Eridan can do that; he's actually the expert here in this area of romance for once (both blackrom and fantasizing, probably) and that makes him feel pretty damn good. Kind of looks like if he let on how smug that makes him feel Kar might haul off and smack him for it, though. Maybe only verbally, but still. Eridan would prefer a happy Kar on top of him, thanks. It's pretty hard not to smile at how cute that blush and glare look on him, but Eridan manages to to keep it at a twitch of his lips.

He nods as solemnly as possible, blushing a little himself. It's not like Karkat hasn't seen evidence of him in some pretty scandalous situations with Vvris before anyway--those were pretty much the first images of Eridan he ever saw, in fact, after Vvris sent him those incriminatin pictures of him all tied up on her ship and bleeding. "All right, Kar. Ask awway."

 

"Really?" You are briefly surprised that Eridan is agreeing to this with the minimum of douchebaggery, but after some slightly dazed confusion you decide it was supposed to be like that all along and you were silly for thinking otherwise, even for just one second. "Um, well... good."

You are pretty well versed, you think, on all the plausible imaginative scenarios for superior blackrom romance, and moreover you have a fairly decent grip on the basic outlines of Eridan's better and/or more steamy personal experiences, so it's not really storytelling and fantasy fodder you are wanting here. Also this is nothing Terezi or Gamzee could help you with, and at the moment there is literally no one else you would be more comfortable asking. You want some useful nitty gritty. Some practical know-how, if you will.

So, blushing more furiously than you feel you've ever blushed before, you lean in, and carefully, extremely carefully, place your hand on Eridan's throat. You just are barely touching the skin, you want to keep it real light and non-threatening, since you don't want actual demonstrations, just walk-throughs. "Not gonna hurt you," you find yourself murmuring, unable to meet Eridan's gaze now and sort of looking away and okay maybe you were more mumbling than murmuring. "Did... did you ever choke her? Or did she you? Uhhhh...." 

So terrible, you have no idea why you thought this was a good idea to ask about, it's excruciating and humiliating, but fuck it all you _still_ want to know, and not just about this. When will you ever get this chance again? You'd never be able to work up the courage to ask these things in the future, it's only because of all the crying and embarrassing admissions of lonely dating ineptitude on Eridan's part earlier that you can even countenance doing it now. So, fuck it. You swallow, and keep going, and if it's impossible for you to look into Eridan's eyes well so be it. "Don't laugh. I... I just want pointers. For, um. Reasons."

 

Eridan has to wonder why the hell Karkat seems so surprised at first. He already shared all that incredibly embarrassing stuff about how far he and Vvris went, and Kar's already seen some pictorial evidence of the pretty hot caliginous shit he and Vvris used to get up to. Why would he hesitate now?

But then Kar's hand is getting wrapped oh so gingerly around his throat and he gets it. Kar's angling for a physical demonstration. Eridan swallows, throat bobbing beneath Karkat's hand. His eyes are wide and it's probably a good thing Kar's not looking at him so he doesn't see how nervous and… and maybe sort of hot this whole situation is making Eridan. Not that he feels an ounce of hate for Karkat, but his touch is so light that there's really no threat at all. That makes it harder to distinguish as blackrom… but this is a demonstration. Just a demonstration, not even supposed to be a little bit heated. So Eridan licks his lips and vows to make this as professional a walkthrough as possible. He's not about to ask what 'reasons' Karkat has for wanting to do this, though he's curious… if he starts prying now, Kar might have a change of heart and not want to go through with it after all. And Eridan likes having Kar all over him like this, even if it is for a totally platonic lesson of sorts.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, we did some chokin. And throwwin each other against wwalls an such. That's a good wway to knock the breath right outta someone, an makes the chokin that much more of a threat. Also makes it easier to pin them before they get their breath back an their legs up under them."

Eridan lifts his hands up over his head and leaves them there, wrists close together. "If you can, try to get their wwrists all pinned good either behind their back or up ovver their head so they can't get awway easy or fight you off or try goin for your throat instead. Don't wwant a turnin of the tables like that." He nods upward, where his wrists are waiting to be held. "Go ahead an pin me there."

He waits for Karkat to hold him down, watching his every move. It's upright criminal how fuckin hot Kar is, even doing shit to him meant for the wrong quadrant. "Okay. Then you squeeze til they start goin real colorful in the face an start sputterin, but let up before they fuckin pass out. An be careful a pressin too hard; you wwanna bruise but not damage too much, okay, Kar?"

 

You part your lips, letting your mouth hang open a little so you can breathe through your mouth without it being too obvious, since you feel just a slight shade more breathless than you did a minute ago. Every reflex in your body is trying to order you to squeeze your eyes shut tight through some kind of moebius double reacharound of the mind, as if shutting down your vision would make this seem slightly less real and therefore more doable. The whole point is for this to feel as real as possible, without actually anyone getting hurt, so if... well, if you are ever in a situation where you can actually have this chance, you will know how to do it right. Seem sexy instead of awkward and lame. This means your eyes need to stay open. You override your reflexes. Well, you try.

So for a second you let your eyes meet Eridan's, and he's staring at you all intensely and you just know you're kind of freaking him out a little here, but well he's being a good sport and extremely helpful and all that shit he said was actually really useful and if you could you'd be taking notes. Well, except that would sort of ruin the flow of the practical side of the demonstration. You can only hold his gaze for a second before looking up to his wrists, which you sort of slowly lunge for with your free hand as if grabbing for a lifeline, still keeping the other hand on Eridan's throat as gently as possible. Your grip on his wrists is tight... that part shouldn't hurt no matter how hard you squeeze, and so you squeeze with all your strength (being careful of your claws though, not to bite into flesh) because putting all that energy off into that hand helps keep the strength in the other one feather-light and safe. You think.

And now you stroke his throat, very very softly, with an air of exploration, finding his swallow notch, using your fingertips to feel along its hard edge to find his pulse, here and there, fluttering a bit rapidly which is kind of reassuring since you'd be mortified, absolutely livid with shame, if Eridan weren't a little nervous too.

Fuck, it's too much. You give in to the impulse to squeeze your eyes as tight as possible, and find yourself licking your lips. "Where... where is the best place for my hand, here? Show me."

 

Eridan almost wants to laugh, except all this is far too exciting and he's got to admit he's as anxious as Kar is here. Show him, he says, to the guy whose hands he's got pinned so fuckin nicely over his head. For a moment he has to force his distracted mind to think of a way to do that. The way Karkat's hand is moving so tenderly over his throat is making it really difficult for him to focus, but he thinks he can tell from the press of Kar's fingers that he's got a pretty good choke hold going there. Eridan tilts his neck just so, feeling his breath catch in his throat at the gentle tickling sensation of Karkat's fingers just barely brushing his skin. "There I think, Kar," he says, voice a bit rough. "Don't wwanna be too close to the bone there; it fuckin hurts to press on that too hard."

He strains a little, squirming under Karkat to test the hold he's got on his wrists, even though he can feel that it's good and firm. It's kind of exhilaratin how strong Kar is for how small he is. Eridan thinks if Kar really wanted to overpower him, he'd stand a pretty fuckin good chance of it, and that is admirable as hell. "You're gettin the hang a this right quick, Kar." He bites his lip, wondering if what he's about to say is going too far with this whole thing, but fuck it. Kar wants a demonstration; he can't very well leave out one of the best tricks of this whole choking business, can he? "Noww once you'vve got them wwell under your control, you can havve a little fun. If you grind your body dowwn against them, you can havve them seein fuckin stars." Just the the memory of the times Vvris had done that to him is making Eridan's breath come too fast and his blood rush. (He's trying so hard not to even think about Karkat doing that to him. That'd probably be against the rules or something.)

That's not the only tip he's got either. "It's also really fuckin great if you lean dowwn an kiss them too, since bein tender wwith em is a good contrariant to all the rough treatment an all."

Eridan licks his lips again, unconsciously. No way he's stupid enough to hope Kar might want an actual demonstration of any of the good bits like those.

 

You very carefully memorize the exact position of your fingers on Eridan's throat, for future reference, although there is a flash of mortification when you realize you expected him to show you with one of his hands but then how could he when you have both of his hands in total custody? Um. Well, you were saved on that one by Eridan's obliviousness, you think. 

That thought combusts into a flash of nothingness, however, when Eridan goes on to give you his additional tips.

Wow, you never thought about that. Well, wrong: yes you did, of course, you thought about it a lot, and in exactly those same scenarios he mentioned. It's just that it hadn't occurred to you that he might actually _mention_ them as a logical continuation of the proposed theoretical scenario. This brings you to open your eyes again, with a soft gasp. You look down at Eridan, directly locked into his eyes this time and this time, it feels like you actually can't tear your gaze away, even though you want to. Eridan made what felt like a legit attempt to break out of your grip, and didn't manage it: this makes you feel like you do have some actual control here, even if it's all just fakey-fake pretend blackrom and neither of you feel that way (well, you're 100% for sure about yourself, and about 97% sure for Eridan).

Were this actually Egbert you were fucking around with right now, that would feel like a fucking dare. And you know exactly how Egbert would do it, too: he would be all laughing like a moron at you for taking it so seriously, since well a part of what would have made blackrom with him so good is his overall sense of contempt and superiority to the entire thing. Egbert, of course, would never frame it in terms of 'contempt' or 'superiority' though: he'd just give one of his infuriating speeches about how you and he are _friends_ and how all those feelings are so _unnecessary_ and how he'd rather just bro _hug it out_ and arghhh well fuck, it's actually a good thing he's not here right this fucking second because just thinking about him makes you fume in an uncomfortably physical way, but this whole time your eyes are boring directly into Eridan's and it's all so. Sexual. Oh no. Fuck. 

Huh well, shit. You definitely do not feel black for Eridan, but you are turned on a bit now, and anyway even with the Egbert mental sidebar you have not forgotten for one single second who you are actually fucking around with here, and a dare from Eridan is still a dare even if he's not following some retarded prankster's creed. And even if he doesn't consciously realize that he raises a dare in the first place. And even more if you still (and always will) believe that dares are things for stupid little wigglers. Slowly you nod. You'll take that dare.

"Fine. I'm going to pretend to kiss you then," you say, voice husky and low. "Pretend to enjoy it, okay?"

Of course, a pretend kiss that isn't actually a kiss would be retarded as all fuck. You are going to make this a one hundred percent true reality kiss, it's just... you won't mean it. Yeah. You won't mean it. So it won't count.

 

Eridan blinks, eyes wide as twin moons behind his glasses. All of a sudden it feels like his bloodpusher's up in his throat, caught and trapped there by Karkat's hand. He never expected Kar to actually go with any of this, never expected to get an actual kiss out of this very practical blackrom demonstration. It's not the same thing as a real redrom kiss (like the kind he'd really like from Karkat), but he's not about to turn it down or back out of this now. If Karkat's willing to pretend kiss him, Eridan will fuckin enjoy the hell out of it, no pretending necessary. Not like he's going to admit that out loud though; that'd probably make a nice mess out of the situation.

He gives a couple sharp nods, not trusting his voice not to break if he tries to use it. That'd just be awkward instead of goddamn sexy like Kar's was. Then he parts his lips slightly and sucks in a shaky breath, ready as he'll ever be for this (fake fake fakey pretend) kiss.

 

You decide to run down some hasty instructions prior to starting, as well as a little rushed commentary. You lean in, close enough so that your lips are so close to touching his but not all the way, and speak directly at his mouth since that's obviously the best way to get someone to pay attention (it also works when yelling). "No biting, not too much tongue, I might pull back a couple times but it'll be for a second so keep your mouth open. I've got lots of practice with Terezi, so don't worry it won't suck, just... no commentary afterwards, all right?" 

Eridan might nod or he might not: you're not entirely sure, you are feeling a bit hazy. Time to wrap up the extemporaneous speech here. "This counts like a sloppy makeout session though, it's not like it never happened." Then you dive in.

Eridan's mouth tastes... pretty much exactly like Terezi's. Better than Gamzee's; waaay better than that. Not as good as Jade's but that was a terrible horrible shameful experience you never want to experience again since you pretty much fucked it up so bad that the taste of it hardly mattered. And well, the same as that tool Strider's, too, that one time Terezi convinced you to fake-make out with him for her benefit, a whole clusterfuck of horrible even worse than the Jade kiss. Even if that douche smirked when it was over and said he liked it and wanted to try again. 

Eridan is... good, though. He follows instruction well. Very well. He opens his mouth all soft and pliant-like, and he doesn't push forward with his tongue, just sort of moves it against yours in a nice way that makes you sort of shiver all over. You... swallow once, closing your eyes. You really want him to like it. It's very important that he doesn't hate it. You'll be able to tell if he does, so... even if he doesn't say anything, you need to make this good since it would suck to be asking for all this very useful advice and then prove to be an utterly pathetic kisser. That cannot under any circumstance be allowed to happen.

So maybe you try a little too hard to make it good, and are a bit too forceful. You think that's okay though. Eridan's kind of desperate about kissing, right? This thought is a terrible thing for you to think, but you do: and it give you comfort enough that you do relax into it, after a bit. Might as well go on for a bit since you doubt you'll be doing this again. This thought makes your bloodpusher clench a bit, but you ignore that.

 

This kiss is sweet, sweeter than any Eridan's ever had before. All those guidelines Kar set down, breathed against his mouth, make it that much harder to think of it as supposedly caliginous. And since this is a legitimate sloppy makeout session--really real, oh god--then it isn't black anyway. Not from his end at least, and he's pretty sure not from Kar's either, not for real. Eridan's not sure what that makes it, but it doesn't matter.

Not with Karkat's mouth moving against his own. Eridan is careful to let Kar take the lead, not wanting to violate all his rules and piss him off. No biting, just a little tongue--it's kind of a foreign concept to Eridan since he's only ever had the violent makeouts that are part of a kismesissitude, and he's not sure he's doing this right. Still, he's not about to be a cold fish about it. He's gentle, moving his tongue softly against Kar's, caution holding him back. 

The force Karkat's putting into it makes him hot all over; he relishes it. Eridan's fingers flex, his hands still confined in Karkat's grip preventing him from burying his fingers in Kar's hair like he naturally wants to. Somehow that's fuckin sexy too. 

It's so good. So good it's making him dizzy. There's no blaming the gentle hold Karkat's got on his throat, but that doesn't mean Eridan can't still blame Kar for taking his breath away. Eridan lets his eyes slip shut, content to continue leaving his mouth to Kar's mercy for as long as he'll have him.

 

It's funny, in a funny peculiar as well as a funny ha-ha kind of way, how kisses seem to come with their own built-in individual time limit. This is the kind of superb romantic philosophical nonsense that sort of steamrolls through your head at this moment, mid-kiss, the kind of nonsense that is pretty much your Karkat Vantas trademark of kissing excellence and why, you're convinced, that you're a top troll Romeo as well as, you have to say, probably a top troll Casanova as well. 

Excepting with Jade of course, and excepting Dave as well, but he never counted in the first place so who cares.

It's like... you can feel the kiss winding down even before it starts winding down, like when it crests and is at its most intense. Eridan's just so... ridiculously compliant here, it's kind of fucking perfect in a really disturbing sort of way. Like this is how it's supposed to be, you bossing him around and him enjoying it.... like you were fated to be his hatched leader and well okay you're fine with that role, it's totally cool how awesome you are at shit like this, really. You had no illusions that this was going to feel like a black kiss from the very start, so you're mostly just doing it for form and to get the feel of kissing someone while holding them down and stuff, but there is this thing you're noticing how it's not at basic bro-level kissing either, like what kissing you've gotten down to with Gamzee, where you guys kiss mostly because he's bored and you don't care. That sort of kissing is no more serious than kicking back the wicked elixir (which is something you also do when he's bored and you don't care). 

You pretty much have no good way to say what this kissing is like. It's different emotionally from what happens with Terezi, of course, but it's somehow no less emotionally charged. Just... different. You wonder if maybe it's because you legit pity him so much, even though nowadays you don't even think of pity as really an aspect of flushed feelings any more, not the way you did when you were just barely more than a kid.

At a certain point, you realize you are actually delaying the end of the kiss, that it had reached it's natural concluding point about a minute earlier and now you're just down to teasing little bits of lip sucking and tongue flicking and suddenly it occurs to you: you're stalling. And you're stalling because you're a bit afraid to pull back and look into Eridan's eyes and read whatever is there. Why are you afraid, you might ask yourself? Who the fuck even knows.

 

Well, this is something new to Eridan. He can't remember ever having makeouts that ended up with him feeling so warm and content. All his sloppy makeouts with Vvris ended in blood or blows or curses, which was hot too, but in a more intense and appropriately caliginous way.

But this... He could just go on kissing Karkat for hours, feeling the softness of his tongue, the pull of his teeth tugging teasingly at his lip. Only it feels like Kar's not so into it anymore, like he might pull away any moment now and it'll all end. Obviously they'll have to stop at some point, but... Eridan kind of wishes they didn't have to. Or that they could do it again. That's not part of the deal, though.

Eridan breathes Karkat in, then lets a soft happy sigh escape against Kar's lips. Maybe he's getting a little carried away, relaxing beneath Karkat a bit too much. What kind of tactician would he be if he didn't take full advantage of the situation, though? Another chance like this isn't likely to come up again.

 

Eventually, you do go ahead and end it. Or rather, you pull back slowly, lifting your head just far enough so that you can scan Eridan's expression slowly, carefully. Eridan's eyes did not open when you stopped, but his lips remain parted and he tips them towards you a little, sort of seeming to be unconsciously angling for more. Which is sort of in theory what you told him to do... _wait, keep your mouth open so I can dip back in_ , or something like that... but there is something about his small sigh that seems different from pure compliance. It's obvious he liked it. Correction: it's obvious he's _liking_ it. Eridan doesn't know yet that this kiss is over, and you almost unconsciously lean back to breathe on his lips again, before shaking your head to yourself, no. It's over. No more.

You take the hand that you'd been lightly resting over Eridan's neck and press the fingertips to his lips now, but for some reason you feel the need to press your lips down again too, just brushing his mouth. It's not truly over until he opens his eyes again, you decide. You want him to keep his eyes closed for as long as possible without you barely even kissing him at all. It's.... useful for observing and assessing his reaction, which remains a bit frustratingly hard for you to read. He obviously enjoyed the kiss, which is sufficient relief and validation that honestly, you shouldn't need or want any more... but beyond that, you just can't really say. And you find yourself really wanting to know. 

So you decide to break your own last-minute, hastily decided rule. You let go of Eridan's wrists suddenly, and sit up, which is enough motion that he finally opens his eyes and looks at you. "Better than Vriska," you state, only the slightest hint of a question to your tone, and you try to look down at him as levelly as possible. You are blushing but strangely enough, it's a bit less than you were at the beginning of the kiss, although your breathing is still rapid... it's like you feel you know the answer before he even says it. No, you do know the answer already, before he says it. But you want to hear it anyway. It seems like it would make it even better to hear him say it out loud. You want to know how much better. That's the part that is still in doubt.

 

Oh, now he wants comments after all? Eridan smiles, all soft and satisfied, eyes half-lidded as he nods his assent. "Wway better than Vvris, Kar. The best."

It's like comparing spiny urchins and sea cucumbers; they're just two very different things entirely. Not that Vvris was a bad kisser, she just didn't know when to let up and be more gentle about it. ...When they were younger, anyway; Eridan has no idea about now.

He knows all about what an amazing kisser Kar is now, though. Languidly, Eridan stretches his arms, getting the blood flowing in them again, then reaches out to capture one of Karkat's hands. He brings it to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of it, deciding that's a safer expression of how he feels than sitting up to give Kar another kiss on the mouth would be (that's tempting too). It's just quick and gentlemanly, though he's pretty well aching for something more concupiscent. "Left me wwishin I wwas as fuckin lucky as Ter."

Okay, maybe admitting that was too much. Eridan lets go of Karkat's hand, clearing his throat and sort of staring off at a particularly shiny wand in the pile instead of at Kar's face now as his own face starts heating up again. "I mean, since she gets to do that wwith you all the time." Shit. No, that's not making it better. "Nevvermind, forget I said any a that an just leavve it at you bein really damn good at sloppy makeouts."

 

You decide to ignore all the awkward nonsense and focus on the fact that Eridan giving you a stupidly formal hand-kiss has you kind of absurdly delighted. Terezi would never do something like that, and it's something you see in the best romantic movies all the time (the period dramas anyway, that involve lots of highblood intrigue). To be fair, you would never do it either. Well, prior to today. It just seems kind of quaint and old-fashioned, like from the time when movies had formal titles that were less than several sentences long. Also, Terezi would giggle and that would kind of ruin the gentlemanly aspect of it all. Maybe you'll try it on Eridan when you are leaving in the next day or so? Stealth hand kissing attack, he'll never know what hit him.

So you nod, and then remember what else you wanted to ask about.... this almost immediately gets you back to business and in this case getting back into business means back into blushing like a retard again, but with a bit more confidence and no need to look away anymore. You grab Eridan's hands, encouraging him to sit up. "Biting next?" You know your cheeks are ridiculously red now, again, but you're doing your best to pretend that isn't even happening. "Like where and how hard and circumstances and shenanigans and things like that. Also..." You bite your lower lip and then smile a bit awkwardly. "More holds and shoves and things, that would be good. You know, like.... like in troll Dangerous Liaisons." (Which of course is the trollMDB short handle, the actual title is like five pages long since it is an especially lurid and tragic tale). "Except pretend." Then you sort of feel compelled to add a bit of a personal note. "If you need to add any more kissing to demonstrate things that would be okay, I think. This... this is sort of becoming less of a feelings jam though. That okay?"

 

Eridan takes a firmer hold of Karkat's hands and levers himself up, a smile creeping back onto his face again. More excuses to get close with Kar? Hell yes. Permission to kiss him some more too? Hell fuckin yes. 'Cause the kisses count as something even though he's not sure what exactly, and even if the rest is all caliginous make-believe it's still an invitation to touch that Eridan wouldn't otherwise have.

"It can be wwhatevver you wwant it to be, Kar." Eridan's pretty happy with the turn they've taken; they might not be sharing all their deepest feelings anymore, but they're sure sharing something good here. 

His smile has a warmly indulgent cast to it now, thinking Kar's just so cute when he's blushin and biting his lip like that. And referring to more of his romance movies is really cute too. Eridan shifts so they can both get up out of the pile of pointy (though oddly comforting) wands. "I havve to admit," he says as he helps Karkat up, "troll Dangerous Liaisons is one of my favvorites, all full a highblood decadence and manipulativve intrigue." It's got a pretty good example of the special kind of hate Kar seems to be going for with these demonstrations, too.

"I can wwork wwith that." Eridan kicks at the edge of the pile of wands a little, trying to keep them all neat. Sort of. Well, they can put those away later. Now it's time for more demonstratin, so he keeps hold of one of Karkat's hands and leads him away toward some empty wall-space.

"Okay, promise I'm not goin to hurt you, Kar, but I wwant to givve you the full effect here." With that, he turns Karkat around so he's facing the wall, his back to Eridan. "So say you're sneakin up on your kismesis, an you happen to be close to a wwall. Maybe you follow them til they're right up by one or somethin, I don't knoww." Details. A master at caliginous shenanigans like Eridan is doesn't need to focus on those. "You can grab one a their arms like this," he says, demonstrating by taking hold of Karkat's left arm, "an then twwistin it behind their back and shovvin."

With that, Eridan's got Karkat up against the wall, left arm held loosely behind his back. For a moment he just presses up against him, savoring the warmth of Karkat's body trapped between him and the wall. Ooh, that is nice. With his unoccupied hand, he reaches for the hand not held behind Karkat's back, gently guiding it up the wall over his head and slowly twining their fingers together. Yes, vvery nice indeed. "See?" he breathes right up against Karkat's auricular shell.

"Noww you'vve got him pinned, it'd be a good time to add in some bitin." Eridan hesitates with his lips just barely a hair's breadth from the skin of Karkat's neck. His bloodpusher's going a league a minute again, just having Kar under him like this--whatever he does, he does not want to hurt Kar or give him reason to stop. But he asked for this, so Eridan takes a breath and opens his mouth to very carefully set his teeth to the patch of exposed skin between Karkat's neck and shoulder. Though he doesn't press down, he knows his teeth are fuckin sharp as hell... so of course then he has to press a few kisses to the area, to soothe any resulting sting. And if he lingers a moment, it's only because he's an upright gentleman. Gotta do a lot of soothin.

"There's a good spot. Yeah?"

 

You bite back a small, tight little gasp, forcibly swallowing it in such a way that you make a faintly strangled sound instead. From the moment Eridan starts walking you over towards the wall, holding your hand and everything, you feel a tingle at the base of your skull, a buzzing sensation like a bundle of bees zapping your spine, all chill and venomous and delectable and anticipatory. It is a very unsure sort of feeling, good but also doubtful, and you have some frantic last-second thoughts of the 'wtf am I doing why did I even decide Eridan is a blackrom master what is even happening here is this even okay' variety. 

Instead of saying anything, however, you keep your lips buttoned shut, grim and fatalistic, facing the wall as directed and staring at it stonily, blaming the wall for all your newfound last-second woes. You don't fight Eridan's manipulation of your arm, and try not to stiffen up noticeably as he (gently; no, fucking _tenderly_ ) pushes you into the wall. And then he is crowding up against you from behind, and all coherent Karkatian grumbling, crabby, petulantly pre-pissed off feelings cease.

Before you know it Eridan is pulling your other arm up over your head, against the wall, and holding it there with his, and you can feel every bit of his stiflingly warm body where it presses against yours. Eridan's saying some shit, but it's a little hard to concentrate as his breath tickles in your stupid auricular nub, then there is a prick and some wetness against your neck, and then kisses, plural, achingly soft kisses that barely seem to press into your skin. This feels good. This feels too good. This feels way too fucking good.

And that's when you (mostly) bite back your small, tight little gasp.

"Fucking _hell_ , Eridan," you hiss in a not-disapproving-but-also-not-unannoyed way, sounding irritable on principle but also feeling really flustered as you turn your chin towards where he just kissed, trying to capture a glimpse of him over your shoulder so you can properly glower at him (what with your fucking blazing cheeks and all, who cares), but you can't catch his eye, just end up sort of accidentally nuzzling the side of his cheek, which is basically infuriating but you are a very patient and saintly presence who is capable of enduring all the hardships ever, including this one where you feel offensively good. "That's not even fucking _fair_."

And before he can take great offense to this, you continue immediately on, babbling. "... I mean, I can see how that works, I guess that's pretty... well, I didn't hate it, okay?... and actually it feels fucking good but, wait, shut up, don't say anything, and if you get all smug about that I will I swear totally fucking shank you, but. Well, but. It's nice but also nasty if you know what I mean? Shit I don't know if I'm explaining it right..."

Ughh. You close your eyes and snort in vaguely embarrassed self-annoyance, still feeling a bit uncomfortably turned on. You should really slow it down, or demand that Eridan switch it up or something, but... not yet. "Anyway. Do that again. I want... I want to make sure I have it down, okay?"

 

Well, that was a lot more of a reaction than Eridan was expecting there. Not that he's complaining, mind. Clearly his demonstration is working if it's making Kar babble a bunch of nonsense like that. Not that it's total nonsense. He's describing the sort of feelings blackrom's supposed to inspire, in a way--all that business about it not being fair, and being good but also nasty. Nobody would even want a kismesis if there wasn't something nice about it. So yeah, Eridan thinks he's entitled to feel a little smug, whatever Karkat has to say about it. He's doing a good job with his fakey fake demonstration. Fakey fake but really nice...

"I can showw you as many times as you wwant," Eridan breathes. 

He presses another soft kiss to Karkat's skin. Then he carefully sets his teeth to Kar's shoulder again, a little harder this time. That nip will require more soothing. Closing his eyes, Eridan flicks his tongue against the spot, tasting the salt and soap of Karkat's skin. It tastes so good, Eridan could just eat him up, or at least keep licking him just to taste his particular Karkat flavor. That'd be weird, probably, and definitely going too far. Still, he dares a few more lingering, slightly open-mouthed kisses before reluctantly pulling away.

"Nice an nasty is wwhat blackrom's about, ain't it, Kar?" he says. That was supposed to come out reassuring, since Karkat sounded like maybe he was confused back there. But Eridan's voice came out a little too throaty and instead it probably sounded like a fuckin come-on. 

That makes something in Eridan's chest give a twinge. The last thing he wants is for Karkat to think he's falling in spades with him or something. "Pleased it made you feel good, too, though," he amends. It's stupid, but what Eridan would really like is to make Karkat feel just good, none of that 'unfair' or 'nasty' stuff at all. "I'm not, you knoww, an expert on that kind a thing exactly."

He's sure matesprits want to make each other feel just good, but it's not like he's had any experience making that happen. Maybe--oh god--maybe later he could ask Kar to show him how flushed fooling around would work. Just the thought is making his breath catch in his throat. It'd be fakey fake pretend stuff too, but he'd still like to know how it'd feel.

Eridan swallows and licks his lips. "Anywway. Wwant me to showw you again, or you think you got this one dowwn?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BLACKROM IS SO LAME (also um it might be a little too hot). LET'S DO SOME REDROM DEMONSTRATIONS FOR A WHILE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that this chapter (and subsequent chapters) involve tentabulge and xeno, since that is what we decided to go with!

You were opening your mouth to breathe "yeesss" to the first part of that statement, sort of breathlessly musing to yourself that some additional demonstrations would be.... nice, when Eridan adds that completely fucking unnecessary and vaguely insulting addendum there, wondering about if you "got this one dowwn." Yeah, of course you fuck, you think at him all full of frustrated squirming disdain, since now you can't have Eridan show you again because now it will look like you're a moron who is slow to catch on. When in fact, you've fucking got this one dowwn fucking _cold_. In fact, you got it dowwn fucking cold in its entirety the first fucking time, okay? The only reason you had Eridan repeat it was because you were wanting to give him the opportunity to revel in his supposed expertise like the pretentious douchelord he is, a gloriously kind gesture on your part, like a nice way to prop up his ego or whatever, and this is how he repays you? By insulting your fucking brilliant romantically savantic mind?? Well, fuck that. You can't abide that.

Still, this is Eridan you're talking about here, so you have to be a little delicate otherwise you might destroy him with your sick bile of romantic excellence, and your bloodpusher clenches a bit in the raw memory of how you almost did that earlier. Fuck. Such a needlessly fucking complicated situation. So. "Sure, I got it," you say, sort of huskily or whatever since yeah you're still fucking inappropriately over turned-on. "Here, let me show you," and you agitate against his hold, just enough so he lets go.

Once free, you turn around swiftly to face him, quick so he can't have taken too many steps back yet. It's pretty gratifying that his cheeks are as warmly violet as yours are probably fucking punch-colored, and his eyes have widened a bit. "Here," you say, and grab his hands with yours, intertwining your fingers with his similar to the way he did it earlier, but this time palm-to-palm so you get a pretty good hold going, and you let your claws cut into his hands a little. Just a little. And carefully, though, too... you don't really want this to hurt. You grin up at him, all characteristically bloodthirsty and shit. "I'm gonna try it on you now, okay?" 

You give him barely time to nod before you push back against him, forcing him to take backwards steps across the room, moving towards his desk. Once you get him there you let go of one of his hands, leaning over to sweep the pencils and papers off said desk, and they are loudly clattering to the floor when you do that thing of turning him around and twisting one of his arms up behind his back (slowly, puzzling out the best way to do this as you continue on). And then gently... yes you douchebag, fucking _tenderly_... you push him cheek-down onto the desk, bending down over him.

"Doing it this way to take away your fucking height advantage," you murmur, a bit apologetically but also a bit warningly, since he should not comment on that fuck-damn height advantage of his in any way, it really should be a forbidden topic but for the sake of this one thing you'll acknowledge it. "Okay?"

Eridan basically seems okay with it. He nods or whatever, sort of rapidly, and so you lean in and do the biting thing on his neck. You keep your teeth there longer, but don't press into his flesh any harder than he did, and afterwards you figure you should do the licking/sucking thing he was doing too since well that seemed mighty diabolical and shit. Definitely a nice touch.

 

Yeah, Eridan's never been more okay with anything in his life. At this point he'd agree to do anything Karkat wants him to, even if Karkat had wanted to try putting some real force behind the pretend-violent 'shoving' him onto the desk bits. That might even not be so bad; Kar's being so bloody outright tender with him it's making Eridan's heart ache and all that tenderness is making it really hard for him to bear in mind he's still just being Kar's blackrom test subject. 

Karkat isn't being entirely gentle, though. Eridan has to try and suppress a shudder as he feels Karkat's teeth close on an exposed stretch of his neck (thank his fuckin lucky stars he wore his scarf nice and loose today) and hold them there. It doesn't hurt, not really, just sort of prickles a little, but the way Kar sucks and kisses at the spot after starts out a little aggressively. Possessively? Eridan can only wish, and even if it were... it's fake. Fakey fake possessiveness, for a fake kismesis doing fake--oh.

Now Karkat's lips against Eridan's skin feel softer. There's a tenderness in them that wasn't there a moment ago, and Eridan can't help making a rather undignified little wavery sigh. It feels so good, he can't even bring himself to care that it probably just means Kar's doing like Eridan did 'cause that's what he got demonstrated on him and it doesn't mean there's anything behind all this sweetness. Just means Eridan's a damn fuckin good teacher... which he might be more outwardly smug about if he wasn't already too full of other emotions. 

And as far as advantages go, height's about the only one Eridan's got on Kar at the moment. He's utterly pliant beneath Karkat, content to let Kar hold him down on his desk, his heated cheek pressed to the cool wood. Eridan might even say so if he thought he could trust his voice not to betray just how terribly much the whole situation is affecting, and oh good fuckin god yes, arousing him. There's no way he's going to chance talking right now, though. He'll just let Karkat go on and do wwhatevver he damn well fuckin pleases without comment--which, really, Kar should be grateful for--and just keep nodding if he's asked anything more.

 

Ughhh... that rosy-Rose scent in this context is really sort of disgustingly sexy, you're finding, which would be hilarious if you were capable of thinking more clearly since well, haha, girl scent, obviously. 

But you're not currently that capable. This level of compliance from Eridan fucking Ampora is possibly, probably a very dangerous thing; it's addictive at the very least, heady like a particularly great power trip. Without really thinking it over, you start rewarding that compliance with some only hazily volitional actions: absently you thumb small, gentle strokes into the hollow of Eridan's captured hand, still pinning him from behind as best as you can despite somewhat awkward positioning. Because of tallness factors, you can't just crouch over Eridan directly to get at his neck, and instead are sort of draping yourself kind of pathetically Nepeta-like over his one side, and you can tell this isn't really any kind of competent hold at all. A real kismesis could escape here, no problem, and that thought is a bit distressing even as you slow your macking on Eridan's neck, ratcheting down the pacing into a more dreamy, soft rhythm that hardly makes any sense at all. 

With your free hand, you sort of impatiently thrum your fingers against your thigh, considering. Your thinkpan is currently running on mind honey, it seems, flowing all slow and sweet and basically useless, as you sort of halfassedly try to figure out how to rectify your lack of total control. Eventually, as you pour kiss after kiss onto Eridan's stupidly sexy violet-tinged neck, it occurs to you to grab his other hand. Oh _fuck_ yeah. That's more like it. He's still totally giving in to you, letting you do whatever the fuck you want, so you pull his hand up onto the desk, slapping it down possessively and triumphantly, sort of replicating Eridan's pose with you from earlier. Just now it's against the desk instead of the wall, this time. 

But that's still not enough. You want _total_ control, at least according to a particularly soporific definition of 'want.' 

"Mmm, here... hey, mer-face, tell me..." You interrupt yourself with some kind of disgustingly wanton neck licking, using your entire tongue to paint a moist (but not like, drooling) line up and down the long tendon near the side of his neck, which you have on the most reliable authority is the sexiest fucking neck-licking technique imaginable since Terezi is always doing that shit to you and it pretty much reliably makes your toes curl and makes you swear incoherently and (as she avers) adorably. "Ahh, gosh fucking shit, Eridan, you are kind of so..." You interrupt yourself again, with soft dry pressing of your lips over where you'd just licked, shooshing the sheen of lick-spit away. "So..." This just won't stop being criminally hot, will it? "Fuck." 

Coherence will not be yours, it seems. "Whhhellll, just... um, watch me do this..."

And you proceed to do this. You're not sure why "this" is the perfect move, but you pretty much instantly know it is, as you teasingly run one knee up roughly along the inside high part of his thigh, slowly, slowly, until you grind and lock the your knee against the desk's edge. This gives your positioning a lot more stability, and now you feel like Eridan is really, you know, under you. How you want. How, maybe, a little, it's really supposed to be. Your knee kind of aches doing this, so you won't likely be able to hold it for long, but...

"Like that." You take a deep, deep breath, and then kiss him again. "How do ya fucking like that?"

 

It's a god fuckin damn good thing Eridan's got a nice sturdy flat surface to hold him up, or he'd have melted into an utterly upright shameful puddle on the floor by now. Karkat's words reach him in a haze, and he only sort of registers that they're kind of disconnected and not very coherent. That's good, probably; he's never heard Kar lose his words quite this much so he must be really into it too. Probably just the blackrom roleplay he's into and not Eridan himself, but Eridan'll take it.

What registers with Eridan most is the feel of his hand being forcibly smacked onto the desk and held there beneath Kar's, and the exquisitely blissful shock of having Karkat's tongue trace the taut line of his throat, the gentle softness of lips pressing against his skin. Eridan's biting his own lip so hard he can taste the tang of blood, and his breath is coming so fast he's getting lightheaded again. Kar can do _anything_ he wants to at all; it all feels so fuckin amazingly good, Eridan's damn well positive he's never felt anything quite like this before. Last time he got to do any sort of fooling around with anyone was way back with Vvris, and it was nothing like this, nothing at all. That was an actual blackrom, though, and they were just dumb kids, but this... this is different. He's giving himself to Kar like he never would have been idiot enough to do with Vvris, and Kar is not disappointing him in the least. He's taking all the control and instead of abusing that power, he's... he's... fuck, whatever he's doing it's all nothing but good.

"Ohhhh, Kar, fuckin... fuckin _god_ yes," Eridan moans. He couldn't actually 'watch' anything other than his own shaking hand held beneath Karkat's as Kar bloody well slid his knee up his thigh and between his legs, pinning him to the desk in the most thinkpan-shattering way possible. But Eridan felt every damn bit of movement with every nerve in his body, and his legs are now limp as jellyfish and, yeah, the only thing saving him from embarrassing himself further than he already has is the fact that he's held in place on a desk that's supporting all his weight.

 

He likes it. Fuck to the yes, he likes it, and ergo you rock and are basically a blackrom god, at least when it comes to the seductive sexy part (if not so much in regards to the far trickier courtship aspect which of course you've only ever failed at). This is sweet, sweet validation, and on top of that you're still overwhelmed with the greatness of having such a proven epic douchebag entirely under your power. This is seriously fucking intoxicating especially the part where Eridan is all fuckin god yes. So yay you win, and probably you should stop, or slow down, since you have proven your victory here and therefore should be ready to move on to the next lesson, letting Eridan teach you more sexy tricks to enrich your theoretical caliginous romantic repertoire. But no, you don't do that.

At least not yet. Your thinkpan does not stop being clogged with imaginary mind honey, signals running like slow molasses through your ludicrously overclocked spongiform neural nets, and so that sort of probably explains what happens next: you foggily register Eridan's rapid breathing, and therefore tilt your head up just to brush your lips to his mouth since you can't get enough of an angle to actually kiss him properly. "Hey," you find yourself saying. "Hey. Shhh." Turns out, violet blood tastes bitter and sour, like chalky wine vinegar. At first you think you dislike it, but then you change your mind. "Mmm." You lick the stain of his blood off your own lips, and then go to gently licking at his lower lip, to clean or maybe help soothe the bitten/chewed-on parts. "Stop biting yourself." 

Eridan's eyes are so wide and he's staring at you so hard and slowly he does exactly what you say. 

Keep going? Or stop? You want to keep going. Your own breathing is hitched and coming rapidly (although not half so rapidly as Eridan's), and it just feels like the most natural thing in the world to let go of the arm you've been holding behind Eridan's back, guiding him to put his other hand down on the desktop too, so that you can take your own now-free hand and push it roughly through Eridan's hair, rubbing your fingers up from the nape of his neck and over his loosely-tied scarf and then further, up through the soft, soft hair at the back of his head. You find that Eridan is very turned on, and so are you; you can feel his bulge sluggishly and tightly squirming, hot against your thigh, and your own bulge is similarly active within the tight space of your own pants. "Let's slow down," you whisper. "Let's take a break." And you drop your knee, getting it away from Eridan's body, but otherwise you don't move. "This is good, but, let's... slow it down. Slower." And you kiss his forehead, and cheek, and then put your own cheek down onto the desk, closing your eyes while facing him, otherwise holding your position. "Let's... not stop. If that's..."

You're shaking, a little. Your voice is quivering. What the fuck are you even doing here. This is fucking scandalous. But... it feels so fucking good. "If..."

You should really stop, though. This is probably becoming very unfair. "Or maybe let's stop, and pick it back up later. What... whatever is better."

 

Eridan goes to chew on his lip again at that, so overcome he doesn't know how to answer, but he stops. Kar told him to stop biting himself, shooshed him a bit even-and then he licked the blood off Eridan's lip and seemed to _enjoy it_. That is so hot, and so very sweet, and Eridan is just so fuckin confused right now. All the tender kisses, the hand soothingly tangled in his hair, and all that bleedin consideration of what Eridan wants to do is the exact opposite of what a kismesis would do, so that means it's not pretend, right? But then does that mean Karkat's got some flushed feelings for him too, or is he just _being Kar_? Or maybe he's just falling back on what he knows, since blackrom's not his specialty? Fuck, Eridan doesn't know.

But god, he's beautiful. Eridan's staring now at Karkat's face pressed to the desk beside his own, drinking in the sight of his cherry-flushed cheeks and the glimpse of sharp teeth behind slightly parted lips. There's still dark circles beneath Karkat's closed eyes, but he looks happy. It makes Eridan's bloodpusher ache. 

And his head's still reeling. Karkat sounded like he really didn't want to stop, and he did say they could pick this back up later... but does that mean he just wants to fool around with more fake blackrom, or--? Eridan takes a deep, shuddering breath and lets it out slowly. Maybe if he calms his fuckin gills he'll be able to suss all this out better. He wants more. More of Kar all over him and more being all over Kar, more kissing, more touching, now and later. Now is good, his body is screaming at him, more now.

But then later's good too, later's probably better. Eridan's bloodpusher is pounding in his chest out of more than just lust--he's also pretty bloody scared of just how much he's feeling for Karkat if he's being honest. And if he's being really honest, then if they do this more later he'd like it to be really real. Fuckin hell, there he goes wanting too much too fast. Okay, no, if Kar wants just more blackrom practicing that's okay. It's fine. It's better than no more of this at all, ever.

"Kar, I could do this with you all fuckin night," Eridan finally says, voice a bit thick and rough. He clears his throat. "If you wwant." 

He stares at Karkat a moment longer, squeezing the one hand he's still holding. "A course... anythin wwe end up doin is fine wwith me."

Some things are more fun than others, but they could just stay here having a fuckin staring contest all night and Eridan would be having a good time.

 

Awwww, fuck. Just what you should have expected and should have been preemptively annoyed for--a non-decision wrapped in utterly ridiculous and radioactive levels of sappiness, but well you're basically used to this, since every troll except for yourself is pretty much a hatched genius at avoiding responsibility, and actually that is a fucking excellent thing because that leaves room for you to basically take over the shunned leadership role in any and all circumstances. And it's currently your questionable good luck that Aradia isn't around to just fucking spontaneously demote you out of fucking idiotic and probably morbid personal whimsy, so well. You will bear this cross you have been given, and bear it like a pro.

So, you pretty much find yourself doing now what you know you have to do, which is to get a fucking hold of yourself and forcibly decompress all these puzzling emotional reactions, and it's like injecting honey-busting serum into your brain. Eridan wants to keep going all fucking night, but he is also ready to accept whatever you decide, which means you have either horribly miscalculated and are bewitching him into falling (even more?) into flushed feelings for you, or... okay, fuck, there is no 'or.' 

You sort of allow yourself to grimace, possibly unattractively but also like a confirmed and registered badass, as you ponder your options, squeezing your already tightly-shut eyes shut even tighter. And, like okay. You have to admit that Eridan is very physically attractive to you (right now and also usually) and if he were almost anyone else you'd be going for it with pretty much absolute abandon, not worrying about the consequences since basically the consequences would be nothing other than simple, uncomplicated fun. Of the people and trolls who find you attractive (the numbers of whom are surely considerable), few would even speculatively entertain any deeper emotional attachment to you, and when they do it's usually in an opposite way to how you feel so it's always been pretty clear who you can and can't fuck around with. Not everyone, but... yeah, you do okay.

Anyway, Eridan's general piss-poor luck with redrom has always been about his terrible, clingy, demanding personality, not about his overall attractiveness, something he never really fucking understood. But then again, his personality never bothered you as much as it bothered most people either. You kind of enjoy assholes and douchelords, most of the time. So in the realm of fucking casual fucking flirty flings, now that you've got the perpetual green-light from Terezi, you could go at it with Eridan all fucking day and night if you let yourself, and you know that it would be great, so great, if emotions somehow weren't a part of the picture.

Sadly, however, emotions are always part of the picture. 

Not just for him, but for you too, you remind yourself with no small amount of personal aggravation: is there even such a thing as emotion-free uncomplicated fun fooling around for you with anyone, let alone with Eridan Ampora? Ha. No. Probably not.

The problem is, you're not really searching for another matesprit here, either. Being open to it is not the same as seeking it out, and you're not, you're not, you're _not_ , you swear to fucking god. So, perhaps... perhaps you should try convincing Eridan that it's okay to do things just for fun and not attach any deeper meaning to it?

Ugggggghhhhiggggg to the power of infinity, max. You pretty much scornfully laugh at yourself inside your own head, since trying to convince Eridan of _that_ would be basically inviting yourself to fucking take over guardianship responsibilities on his goddamn pathetically minuscule romantic self-esteem forever and ever, the end. So, no. No no no no no. And, for good measure, you'll add: fuck no. All you know for sure is that you want to be friends with him again, and... and that you are not opposed to certain levels of fooling around with certain select fucking friends. And treating Eridan like he's a fucking exception because of all of his fucking feelings isn't helping anyone, least of all yourself. 

So. You decide that this sort of thing, all this messing around you mean, is okay. If you pace yourself. If you don't take it "all the way." If... if you pretty much assume absolute and eternal command forever of whatever fooling around the two of you actually do, and don't allow it to digress into emotional-talk territory unless it is absolutely necessary, and... and... don't let all the many pitfalls and fucking landmines associated with the eternal dramatic tableau of Eridan being Eridan take over and run the fucking show. 

Eridan fucking Ampora is a fucking grown up troll, and you'll just have to let him decide for himself on his own what all of this fucking means to him. Things don't have to mean the same thing to both parties to be worthwhile or real, after all. 

Okay. You're ready. You open your eyes, finally, and smile at Eridan, who is staring at you with all of the patience in the world, and you return the smile with a level of fondness that actually isn't all that fake, moving your hand from his hair over to his cheek, to stroke it gently. "If we're going to do this all damn night, then we really have to pace ourselves," you say, with a decisive and (hopefully encouraging) finality, needing to clear your voice as you speak since your throat is all thick and choked up like a fucking drain clogged with hairballs or whatever for some reason. "Let's go back over to the wand pile, then." And then you stand up, aching for more, still pretty turned on after all. You grab Eridan's nearest hand off the desk, tightly, firmly, as if you never intend to let it go, and tug. "Come."

 

Eridan smiles and lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding since Kar made that grimace, not because of his expression--it was just as interesting to look at and upright cute and characteristically Kar as his resting face--but because he just wasn't sure what Karkat would decide.

But he came out with just about the absolute best idea, Eridan thinks. It really is his fuckin luckiest day ever if he gets to round it out with all-night slow and easy makeouts with Karkat, in a pile of his own shitty wands no less. 

Getting over there means he has to move, though. He gets a firmer grip with the hand Karkat's tugging on and slowly gets his jellied legs up under him again. When he only wobbles a little as he stands, he considers that a success. Now his legs are more like rubbery kelp, which ain't great but at least they'll hold him til he follows Kar to the pile.

"If wwe're gonna take it sloww I don't knoww howw much of a caliginous demonstration it'll be," Eridan says, being mindful of the papers on the floor. Wouldn't want to step on the shipping grid or anything. "So. Wwhat wwould you say to showwin me some redrom movves, Kar?"

 

See? You approve of this suggestion. "No problem," you say, with an offhand shrug, dragging Eridan back into the pile, and despite hated tallness factors decide to make his fucking day with some pure expert redrom moves, pulling him into your lap after you tumble into a seated, cross-legged position. You'll ask for more blackrom tips later. 

It's a bit embarrassingly awkward to get him there, since he's obviously never done this before (sitting in anyone's lap you mean), and so you have to do a lot of impatient lap-patting and pointing up at him and then down at your lap, and then up and down again like a dozen more stupid times, and it feels basically like fucking charades alchemically combined with Pictionary (Charadesionary?), were the two games melded into an unholy union of wordless mute communication and absurdly sick gamesmanship. Eridan is obviously weak-kneed and also weirdly formal when he eventually catches on to what you want and then awkwardly complies, lowering himself carefully into the suggested (demanded) position. Your brief flash of a smile swiftly internalizes, becoming more of an intense quiet stare after just a moment. You're going to schoolfeed the fuck out of this douche on the topic of redrom, if that's what he wants, and moreover you're going to fucking enjoy it, fuck whatever emotions Eridan might be having at this actual particular moment which you don't care about one single whit at all. 

Once the two of you are in the middle of the messy pile of wands, and after Eridan has settled into your lap as instructed, you sort of reach around and pull as many wands as you can in towards yourselves, tightening up the pile and making sure to make it so it covers up the both of your legs. Well, as much as you can get covered up, anyway. 

After a pause Eridan reaches out to try and help but you swat his hands away, since a big part of quality redrom is letting your matesprit do things for you as if you were some kind of crippled moronical invalid and just accepting it, and it's really obvious Eridan's never been in that role before because he just looks confused for a moment and then his blush gets even more purply and awkward, and now it seems to be his turn to be sort of incapacitated with the overarching awkwardness infecting you both, and that's fine, that's more than fine. You reach up and pat his cheek a little and then continue quietly with what you were doing, getting the wands all up around you like some kind of fucking wand nest. At least they aren't fucking clown horns, you think to yourself. At least they're not fucking that.

"Okay," you say, once everything's all settled. And yeah fine, okay, this positioning means that you can kind of totally feel his squirming bulge again, and he can probably feel yours too, but that's okay since it's a lot more casual and you can both pretend to ignore that you're feeling this way while still both totally feeling this way, to varying degrees of success you suppose. At least there's very little chance you're going to fucking be tempted to strip him nude, not after you went to all that fuss arranging the pile anyway... it is, however, pretty damn tempting to maybe smoosh your bodies together all tight and wriggly, and this won't screw up the newly-made pile at all so that's exactly what you do, but only in the context of placing and then tightening your arms low around his waist, and then signaling (sort of sexy-grumpily) for him to do the same. 

"What do you want to know?" You ask, after Eridan has obeyed your latest silent demand. "Kisses, I suppose? There are lots of different sorts of redrom kisses. First kisses, goodbye kisses, have fun making out with your kismesis kisses, I can't take how cute you are kisses, teasing kisses, I'm going to trick you into doing shit for me kisses, stupid annoying dumb only-for-your-matesprit-would-you-do-this-idiot-thing kisses (which I don't want to really get into right now, shut up)... also, mmm, I'm-awesome-and-you-know-it kisses, apologizing for being a moronical tool kisses... there's kind of basically a whole fucking range." 

You look up at him, and lick your lips, maybe a bit in memory of the blood of his you just were tasting. You are definitely kind of breathless here, but redrom is your thing, your fucking imaginary sciencified fakey-fake doctoral degree is in fucking redrom for squiddle's sake, and you are Eridan fucking douchebag Ampora's guru in this, and have been all along. You need to show some pride, and so are duly proud, and you are able to say all of that with the utmost seriousness, only a little raw-voiced and shaky about it.

 

Oh, wwoww. Eridan didn't realize and wasn't expecting that going back into the pile and having Kar show him all the best redrom moves meant sittin in his lap and not even being allowed to help scoop up the wands around them all cozy. Should have known Kar would go all out with this, being the undisputed master of this kind of thing. He really has no idea what to do with himself so he's pretty grateful for Karkat's direction, even if it is upright embarrassing how obvious it is Eridan's never done anything like this before (no matter how many times he may have fantasized about it).

And then there's the added pleasant distraction of being flush up against Kar--haha, flush; he should tell Kar that one later 'cause romance puns are probably more his thing than fish puns would be. Now he has irrefutable phsyical proof Karkat's feeling about as turned the fuck on as he is, what with their bodies pressed snug together like this and being able to feel both their bulges sort of wriggling intoxicatingly in the confines of their pants. That's pretty fuckin gratifying knowing he can have that effect on Kar (and kind of a relief, since it would have been goddamn mortifying if he'd been the only one with a stupidly noticeably excited bulge). Whatever else is fake, at least the attraction isn't. Can't fake that.

Eridan smiles kind of bewilderedly down at Karkat (wasn't his idea to sit in the littler guy's lap, he'd protest if Kar were to say anything about it) as he lists off all the kinds of flushed kisses one could give their matesprit. It's a little overwhelming...

"Kar, I had no idea there wwere so many different kinds a kisses," he says. "Wwe really could be doin this all fuckin night."

He's tempted to just tell Karkat to show him everything, but in an effort to be more discriminating (hey, Eridan can use all the practice he can get there too) he chooses a few to start. "Can you showw me wwhat a first kiss wwould be like wwith a matesprit? An then maybe one a those apologizin for bein a moronical tool kisses. An a you're-too-cute-for-wwords kiss."

Apologizing with a kiss sounds like a better way to get forgiven than any ways of apologizing Eridan's tried before, and considering how much he manages to screw things up he should probably learn to get good at the apologizing kind of kiss. And having Kar show him a first kiss is kind of just indulgent... Eridan just wants to know what a first kiss with Kar would be like. A real pretend flushed first kiss instead of the pretend caliginous kiss they had before. The cute one, too, is just so he can call Kar cute without saying the word, even if it is just this once during the lesson. Eridan's not delusional enough to think he'll get to use these kisses on Karkat as a real matesprit after this.

There's more he'd like to ask for, but Eridan bites his tongue. What's so special about an only-for-your-matesprit kiss, he wonders? And would Kar get mad if he asked for one of those? It'd be pretty fuckin rude to name it if it's not even on the table, but then Kar doesn't want to go into it, so that's pretty conflicting right there. Maybe he can ask for that one last, after they've gone through all the others. And Eridan does mean all. "Showw me evverythin, Kar; I got a lot to learn."

 

"That's just what I could think of off the top of my supratentorial cranionium," you say with attempted casualness, trying to come off as indifferent-sounding but in actuality coming off as more annoyingly excited and impressed with yourself instead, since you _know_ that you basically only were rattling off a whole bunch of freestyle wisdom you'd only just made up at him right then, what with that list of kisses you just dropped. Doesn't matter. Regardless of how fucking spontaneous and even fucking spontanaical that list happened to be, it also seems that you somehow managed to devise said list with what seems to you to be an intelligently representative and probably statistically very significant selection of what are probably close to the top ten (or so) overall best redrom kissing types. Of all time. 

To quote a dead douchebag of your past and shunned acquaintanceship: fucking vwell wvell wvelvlw. 

It seems you're fucking goddamn awesome at this. By a fucking nautical mile, no less.

Deciding to reward yourself for your moment of personal greatness, you wriggle compellingly up against Eridan's actively twitching, squirming bulge for a brief, tauntingly hot moment, drawing out some some sexy moaning groaning from Eridan. It's an exceptionally nice thing to indulge yourself in, turns out. 

Also, turns out to be a great warm-up for some really hot kissing. 

"Showing you everything... is basically impossible," you say, voice low and with the hint of a strangled echoing moan of your own, spitting and stumbling over the words momentarily until you properly compose yourself again. "I didn't even name a tenth of what kinds of redrom kisses are even fucking out there." It takes all of your fucking willpower to keep yourself still, forcing yourself not to wriggle or rock against Eridan's stupidly sexy, turned-on bulge any further. All. Your fucking. Willpower. "I'll... uh. Start with what you said."

With that auspicious prelude all nicely laid out (yeah right), you remove your hands from around Eridan's self-proclaimedly regal waist, bringing your fingertips up to stroke along the sides of his neck and face, and then pulling him down closer so you can brush along the edges and corners of his mouth with your lips. "I guess... I guess the first thing is that there's no one way to do each one of those types of kisses. Just naming the mood and the purpose behind each kiss isn't supposed to be some sort of flowchart leading to only one select ending or finishing move or whatever. In movies, you know, kisses are only really as good as the troll actors acting them out, and in turn that means they have to be about finding that one special kiss that fits each one special moment, you know?" 

You close your eyes, casting about through your memory for a representative such kiss, and your mind kind of naturally goes to the one in troll The Notebook, aka An Impetuous Spirited Highblood Elite Young Ladytroll and her Rugged, Rough, but Totally Handsome Lowblood Fated Matesprit have a Lovely Second Summer Together In Flashback Form, Where They Promise to Build A Shared Hive Together but In The End Are Tragically Torn Apart By the Ladytroll's Demanding Jealous Lusus, and yet Later in Life they Meet Again following Yet Another Intergalactic War, to Maybe Start Over Anew? and okay, yes you're basically paraphrasing here, and a lot of other shit happens, but whatever eventually there is that super romantic kiss in the rain after some kind of hydrofoil-jalopy jaunt or whatever, and memory of that cinematic kiss sort of tugs at you and feels like an appropriate template kiss for what would probably happen between you and Eridan if you two also endured a similarly long and wretchedly heart-wrenching separation and then had some kind of similar nautically epic reunion.. oh wait yeah that's exactly what is happening right now, well sort of (fuck me running, no it's fucking not, except maybe yes a little), and... and... 

And, well, you kind of find yourself holding back a sniffle since that was truly an affecting and memorable movie scene, it really was, even though otherwise troll The Notebook isn't one of your favorite movies or anything, basically it's just way too overrated. 

"Um..." That was a really long mental diversion there and wow, you are almost afraid to open your eyes now since you pretty much went through an entire personal emotional saga right then and there, and it was intensely pointless and yet at the same time humiliatingly, brutally personal and you kind of wish you could pretend that all just didn't happen. "Um." Well fuck it all, damn, you can't. You open your eyes, prophylactically glare, and try to forget about it even though your bloodpusher is pretty much throbbing and writhing inside your thoracic cavity, pounding like a stupid stabby knife all blam-blam-blam and stab-stab-stab. Damn. "What I _mean_ ," you say, attempting to clarify, "is that you have to visualize how you feel about that one special troll, making it very personal and all, and not at all related to anyone else like past crushes. Like, I mean, it should be not only about what you imagine that troll you're flushing for would want from that particular highly dangerous x1 first kiss, but also what they fucking deserve from that same kiss, since it's kind of like a wriggler's day present or something. And then you have to factor in all sorts of other stuff too, as well-- kind of like factoring for wind vectors and elemental precipitation and things when you're snipering lususes I guess-- do you appreciate how I worked in your past accomplishments right there? Anyway these are the environmental and mood factors you can only know about when you're about to actually do it. So, for a first kiss? I suppose in order to show you, I'll have to, uh um, kiss you, based on what I actually think would be the best first kiss for you." There is an awkward pause as you get distracted noticing how many fucking times Eridan has nodded through your whole stupid speech. You didn't count, but it sure seems to you that he nodded a whole fucking lot. Maybe twice for every fucking word. Fucking Jesus Squiddle T. Christ. Fucking hell. 

Oh well. Continuing on: 

"Anyway. Take this with a droplet of sodium, okay?" you finally grumble, in an adequately conclusional manner (you hope). "I'm probably no fucking Eridan Ampora expert or anything."

With that rambling prelude and extensive caveat in place, you move your fingers again over to Eridan's lips, caressing them slowly and very lightly with your fingertips, and then begin giving what you think would be the best possible first redrom kiss for Eridan. That fucker had better appreciate this, you thought long and randomly and rather fucking pointlessly about it. No matter what at the very least, it's gonna be full of feelings.

 

 _This_. This is the best kiss Eridan has ever had in his entire bloody fuckin life, and fuck fuckin Kar for thinking he's no Eridan Ampora expert, because yes. _Yes he is_ , apparently. It's tender, all softly caressing fingertips agaist his sensitive fins and burning cheeks, and at the same time the press of Kar's lips has got an intensity and a force that's kind of desperate. Maybe not desperate, that's probably more what Eridan himself is, but... yearning. At first, Eridan doesn't know what hit him, or just what he's supposed to do. There's so much emotion behind it, it's a bit scary. But after the inital shock, he can't help but return it rather needily, opening his mouth to Karkat and inviting him in to let their tongues do some tender twining and caressing too. This is better than any fuckin kiss he ever fantasized or imagined having with Kar. Absolutely nothing compares to the real thing.

Eridan finds himself fisting his hands into the back of Karkat's shirt, holding him so close as he gives in to the devouring passion of this first kiss. That hesitation Kar displayed before starting, all those 'um's' and that closed-eyed pause--whatever he was gearing himself up to do, all Eridan knows is whatever it was is thinkpan-searingly and bloodpusher-achingly good. So this is what a first flushed kiss is like... It's the most exciting and evocative thing he's ever experienced. He'll take Kar's grains of fuckin salt, but really there's no denying he's just blowing Eridan right out of the water here.

 

At the point Eridan really gets into kissing you back, you almost totally lose it, and since it's kind of like somehow you two are replicating that exact fucking scene from troll The Notebook and the emotions on your part are as predictably random and extensive as you expected, but you have to fucking admit you had not been at all prepared to be on the receiving end of such reciprocating emotions on Eridan's part, and well he is soooo fucking into it, obviously, and like you can tell suddenly that he's actually maybe envisioning it to be like a redrom first kiss that is _personally from you_ and is responding authentically and in kind, and well wow. That's really fucking too much. You've never before felt like you were in danger of having tears form while having an otherwise perfectly concupiscent-seeming epic redrom kiss, except actually during the first time you kissed Terezi for real (well that time you actually ended up going all out, just grossly sobbing until she had to stop and ask you what was wrong and you had to frustratedly sob at her about how fucking happy you were and then she just hugged and petted you like forever and it was beyond humiliating but at least once that first kiss was over somehow she never brought up the crying thing ever again, not even once just to tease you. Incredible).

It's horrible, how much you feel under Eridan's power here, no matter that you were the one who started it and how this is your educational demonstration and he is the student and _you_ are the master. It's just... so fucking unfair. You kind of hate it. But you don't hate it enough to make it stop, and in fact you find yourself eagerly pushing for more, like your body has taken over and you worry briefly that you're going to spontaneously start pailing and wouldn't _that_ be hilarious (spoiler: no it fucking wouldn't) but well Eridan ends up being every bit the gentletroll he likes to brag about being and doesn't push for anything more even though you're kind of psychically susceptible to it and eventually you get some kind of handle on yourself and pull back, and when you do you are gasping for air, just totally gasping over. And over. And over. Again. Gulping for air like you're a beached whale and fuck you Ampora for getting you to be all oceanically punny about this inside the sanctity of your own thinkpan.

Too much. That is just too fucking much. You lean your forehead against Eridan's shoulder and allow him to pull you close as of course he just would have to do, and a little bit of drool drops from your mouth onto his fucking vvestments until you manage to shut your trap. You then close your eyes. You then stay still like this and get yourself composed. Apparently, even fake redrom pulls a lot out of you. "Ahhh... wellll. See. That's example one." You pause and take a nice deep breath and then huddle even closer. "Give me a second and then you show me your first kiss. Think it over careful. You're not allowed do-overs, Ampora so don't..." You take another deep breath. "Don't even."

 

Oh, fuckin hell, having Karkat all gasping for breath over him is making Eridan's head reel. And the chance to have another first kiss like that again has him just about teetering over the edge of some deep chasm of... he doesn't know what. Love? Desire? All of what he thinks matespritship should be, most like. But teetering is all he does; he pulls himself together enough to realize that was just a demonstration and not really a real redrom first kiss from Kar. And what he's about to do, that's not really real either, though Eridan intends to put all the feelings he's really got into it. This'll be the best fuckin first flushed kiss he can muster for Karkat. It _has_ to be.

All for Karkat. It's pretty fuckin amazing, but Fef doesn't even enter into this equation at all. Not even a little bit. Considering she's his first and most sustained redrom crush, that's upright remarkable. Eridan's feelings for Karkat are outweighing and ovveriding anything he's ever felt for anyone else, and he's damn well going to put that into this kiss.

If he can catch his breath long enough to deliver it, that is.

He's gulping air as desperately as Karkat is, clinging to him as they both take in deep breaths. Eridan's not sure if his bulge is supposed to be writhing quite so much for a first redrom kiss, nor his nook aching so where it's pressed up against the bulge in Kar's pants, but there's really nothing he can do about it. The way his very core aches with emotion is far more important than all that, enticing and distracting as it is.

When he thinks he's got a handle on himself, Eridan pulls gently away so he's looking at Kar and then softly strokes Kar's cheekbones and the delicate shell of his auricular openings, ending at his jaw and then back up again. He licks his lips. Okay, this is harder than he thought it would be. He really wants it to be perfect, just exactly what Kar wants, but he's so afraid he won't get it right. After all, Eridan's never actually given a kiss like this before. And he so wants to show Kar just how much he feels for him, without having to say a word. That's best, isn't it? In this situation?

Without realizing it he's bitten his lip again, the sour tang of his own blood on his tongue as he tentatively brushes his lips against Karkat's. The kiss is hesitant at first, testing and tasting; Karkat deserves his consideration. If this isn't what he wants, he'll stop. But there's so much emotion and desire behind it, Eridan can't help deepening the kiss and sliding his hands back and into Karkat's hair, burying his fingers in the soft tufts of it. He wants so much, wants to share so much with Kar... if that comes across then he'll consider it a successful first kiss. No do-overs. He _has_ to get this right the first time.

 

You like him. It burns and annoys and infuriates and humiliates, but you like him, you actually _like_ this overwrought needy obtuse motherfucker of an asshole. You don't have to admit it, and don't even really want to, but there it is. From the moment Eridan pulls back and away from you, you know his concept of an ideal first fucking kiss is incoming and when he takes your face in his hands and starts kind of, you don't even fucking know, _adoring_ you, you try to keep a steady, healthy emotional distance, figuring that after expending all that emotional energy in your own example kiss, that you'd be usefully depleted enough for this one so that you could, you know, maybe be sort of analytical and evaluative about it. Eridan needs and wants you to be giving him tips, here, after all, and whatever else he might need and want are not your concern and don't even fucking matter.

But, well, try to tell current motherfucking Karkat Vantas that. It seems that current motherfucking Karkat Vantas is all sort of retardedly and blushingly, preeningly _into_ being motherfucking adored, and you'd like to cold cock current motherfucking Karkat Vantas into motherfucking next fucking week, sending him into the future and back home where he can be his normal grumpy perfectly self-satisfied non-Eridan-having, Terezi-macking-on self, complete with frequent online trolling sessions with John Fucking Egbert where you bait his goodnatured ass into watching you type ream upon ream of pristine motherfucking totally platonically hateful vitriolic bullshit at him, complaining about this or that minor life annoyance just to burn with rage over how that asshole thinks it's fun and appropriate to pet at and basically appease you out of some misguided sense of motherfucking friendship. Mother. fucking. Friend. Ship. That, you think to yourself in helpless mental fury, is why friendship is a fucking disease.

And that, you remind yourself crossly, is why you didn't want to be friends again with Mer-Troll Fuckface here. And why you _didn't_ and _shouldn't_ and _weren't_ going to be bros with him again ever, either, and why it took a motherfucking act of Peixes and Her Adorable Legislaceratoratorial Connivingly Adorable Dishonorable Terezi Pyrope to basically trick you into coming out here and now not only are you and Eridan bros again, he's like pretty much motherfucking kissing you like some kind of long-lost lover out of the most romantically demented movie you've ever seen, aka troll Titanic, and no your bloodpusher will NOT go on come on this is the most horrible mental analogy you have ever committed in your entire motherfucking life and basically you're just fucking skirting the issue, which is that...

That...

Well, this kiss? Is kind of pretty much fucking amazing.

"Shit," you moan, all quiet-like and hopelessly turned on, right into Eridan's douche mouth which is currently fucking kissing you like some kind of evil troll Lothario mouth. " _Shit_ Eridan, there... yeah, no, yes, _there_. Yes. Shit. Yes. Yes. _Shit_."

 

So fuckin much for taking it slower and cooling it down. The words spilling out of Kar's mouth and right into Eridan's are having exactly the opposite effect on him. He takes whatever directions Karkat keeps giving him, trying to make him moan his curses and praises like that some more. 

"Kar," Eridan murmurs plaintively into Karkat's mouth, eyes squeezed shut tight as he kisses him open-mouthed and hungrily. It's the most amazing, validating feeling, showing Kar the depth of his affections and hearing encouragement, even if it is probably just on his technique. Like, okay, Eridan gets that he's just demonstrating how he'd give his first kiss to some hypothetical matesprit and not necessarily Karkat... except that it really is for Kar. And he wants to tell him this is all how he really feels, only that'd leave him way too vulnerable.

He's vulnerable enough as it is, sharing the way his ideal first kiss would go with Karkat; he doesn't need to risk immediate bloody rejection in the midst of something this incredible by letting slip a fuckin 'I lovve you'. 'Cause it wouldn't even be a bro-like 'I lovve you'; it'd be an honest to fuckin god I-just-fuckin-love-you 'I lovve you', and that'd be painfully obvious.

Still, he can't help the shift of his hips as his traitorous body tries to get even closer to Kar's, or the breathless way he's kissing him. Tender as he's being, in his urgent, needy passion Eridan clumsily manages to nip Karkat's lower lip too hard. 

"Ah, fuck, Kar," Eridan moans. That was supposed to be an apology, except that the sweet and kind of metallic taste of Karkat's blood on his tongue is too good. Way better than he remembers Vriska's biting cobalt was. Instead of the 'sorry' Eridan means to give, he finds himself giving Karkat's lip a soft suck, kissing it better. That's just as good, right?

 

Yeah, okay fuck it. The entire educational-slash-experimental aspect of his kiss has already gone the fuck down the drain, and as you are liking to constantly remind yourself, you are not actually Eridan's fucking confessor or personal Rose LafuckingLonde on-call and so okay fine fuck it. 'Fuck it' is going to be your fucking credo from now on. Eridan sucking on your lip with lips of his own that still have that dusky purple taste of Eridan's own blood on them is nothing you can just tolerate passively, and so you sort of rock the two of you sideways until you both fall onto your sides, crashing into the pile of shitty wands, and wasn't that whole thing where you piled them up over you two meant to prevent you from doing this exact thing? Well, wasn't it???

Yes, but fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck. It.

You're just going to have to kind of take over a little bit, now. You sit up while simultaneously shoving Eridan onto his back, although it sort of belatedly occurs to you that having some of those wands digging into his back won't feel so good if you're doing anything more aggressive than snuggling, so you snarlingly dig any shitty wands out from under him while at the same time settling your ass onto his hot burning crotch, sitting right on top of the fucking hipster zipper of his pants as you toss wands aggressively and carelessly out of the way. One crashes into the wall. Another falls into his recuperacoon sopor with a small splash. Another hits his computer and oops you really didn't mean to do that, but no harm done. It's kind of exhilarating tossing wands around like a maniac. Eridan is all staring at you, awe-struck, and yeah all full of loving adoration and bullshit, which gosh fucking damn is just really validating and you decide that Nepeta is just fucking _wrong_ and it's not fucking creepy at all. 

"There, now we're even," you say with a grin, as if wand tossing is some kind of payback for the unintentional nip but hey the one thing was really sexy and the other was totally awesome and so it's more like you're even for points in some kind of obscure non-caliginous but also non-concupiscent bullshit _friendlystyle_ rivalry and whoops well if you have to be bros with him again then this is a part of what that means. According to a definition you just spontaneously fucking made up inside your head. You were always gossip bros, after all. Being kissing bros isn't a bad upgrade. "And now..."

You grab a fistful of Eridan's shitty vvestments and use that as leverage to pull yourself down towards him, while simultaneously pulling him up a bit towards you too (although it's more that just his head and shoulders lift from the floor and you meet him the rest of the way in a like utterly smoldering kiss because you continue to be awesome like that). "Here's your 'you're too cute for words' kiss," you say, and true to your words after that first deep kiss you just basically pepper his face with tiny indulgent little kisses everywhere. It's the most natural thing in the world when you loosen your hold on his vvestments and settle him back down onto the floor and just kiss the ever-loving fuck out of him, and now it's your turn to muss with his soft rose-scented hair and using your bloody cut-up mouth, you kiss along his cheeks to his little fins and kiss the little spiny parts of the fins and then the delicate inner webbing, very small careful kisses here and there. "See how I'm making this more fun? A cute kiss needs to be fun, I think." 

That's sort of like the troll Adam Sandler hallmark and is a lesson you will take to your grave. You feel pretty smug perched up on top of Eridan like this. Smug and well, fuck it, not cute at all. Smoldering. Super smoldering.

 

Oh, they are even and then some. Eridan fuckin loves it when Kar trollhandles him like that, all pushing him down on the ground and making wands go flying everywhere (nice touch that; and made the next bit way more comfortable). Karkat sitting on his bulge just about drives him shithive maggots, and then that kiss--it's searing. What kind of a kiss was that, Eridan wonders?

Not that he has a chance to wonder for long, since the next moment he's being lowered back down as Kar rains kisses down on his face and runs his fingers through his hair. The tiny kisses leave tingling traces, especially on the webbing of his fins... it all leaves Eridan's head swimming in warm adoration of every fuckin thing Karkat's doing.

"Nothin more fun," Eridan agrees easily, thinking that Kar looks really good all full of himself there. Just too fuckin cute for words. "Let me givve it a try."

He pushes himself up onto his elbows way more clumsily than he's humble enough to admit, and balances on one to take hold of Kar's own garments (they're not fancy or upright important enough to be called vvestments, really) and pulls him down so that Eridan can try giving him that 'you're too cute for words' kiss himself.

There's no way he can make it as adorable as Kar's kisses to his own face, but Eridan tries to imitate the soft, cute butterfly kisses all over, pressing his swollen lips to Karkat's cheeks and the permanent crease marks between his eyebrows and his forehead and even tries to delicately plant little kisses at the outside corners of his eyes. He's absolutely the most adorable thing Eridan's ever seen, although at the moment he's also the most alluring and captivating too. That's something that may have slipped into Eridan's 'cute' kisses, as he ends with a less than fun-and-innocent lick to Kar's bottom lip before lowering himself back down to stare admiringly up at him. Maybe that makes it a more 'you're-too-cute-and-sexy-for-words' kiss, Eridan doesn't know...

 

"That was pretty okay," you admit as Eridan finishes up, taking his lips away from your face at last and it's kind of a fucking shame he has to do that, ending all the cute kisses and all, since you kind of feel like you wouldn't mind if he'd gone on forever. In retaliation you sit all the way back up, crossing your arms on your chest and getting all pouty and super flushed (not in _that_ way though, just... blushing), staring down and him and trying to collect yourself and catch your breath and you find that you can't take your eyes off him, like you're reading and drinking in every tiny change in his expression, so of course you catch the extremely minute flicker of disappointment and shame that flashes across his face when he hears and then registers your words, before he collects himself. Your bloodpusher suddenly roils in what you can only describe as I DON'T FEEL FUCKING GUILTY AT ALL, YOU FRESH FUCKING FUCK OF A FUCKING SEADWELLER except well that's what you would type into a pesterlog and does not adequately reflect the actual feeling you are having, not one single bit. 

Grrr. God Vantas you are such a fuck-up. You were only trying to underplay your assessment but apparently that counts as irony or something and is clearly an advanced skill that only the most douchetool coolkid humans should attempt, and not wickedly awesome kissecutioner trolls such as yourself. Shit. There is some kind of gross lump in your throat suddenly, as you look down silently at Eridan's now masked face, still all smiling up at you with all the adoration you're finding yourself getting pretty used to, but you know damn well he's hiding a sadder reaction and well shit that makes you feel like an absolute dick of the most grotesquely human proportions. "I hope you realize," you add brittlely, crossing your arms a bit tighter against your chest almost as if you are hugging yourself, swallowing hard against the imaginary lump, "that 'pretty okay' means fucking goddamn spectacular and I can't even fucking believe I need to clarify this shit for you, Ampora," but shit okay now that sounds cross and angry and upset and you're not really that either, you just don't want him whining and crying and feeling sorry for himself for the rest of the goddamn night, that's all. "Ugh."

You guess actually this would be some kind of suspiciously convenient way to segue into an apology kiss, but fuck it all you actually didn't plan this annoying little sidebar of awkwardness and it's not demonstration time, that would be fucking lame as fuck. So instead you close your eyes and uncross your arms and run your fingers through your hair roughly and make some kind of little self-annoyed little groaning noise and hate yourself just a tiny bit more for this stunning lapse into shitty rom-dram idiocy. "What I _mean_ ," you say through gritted teeth and with your eyes still closed, clarifying even further, "is that I am sometimes just a serious jerk and say shitty things and you should just ignore me." You swallow a bit harder, a little more. "I'm not doing this for the apology kiss, mind you. I just needed to say this and anyway I just wish I didn't have to feel suddenly horrible and like a jerk right now. The cute kiss was great, Eridan, and I really fucking mean it. Okay?"

 

"Yeah, okay." Eridan's sort of stiff smile softens into something more natural and genuine again. How'd Kar even read him like that? He thought he did pretty well hiding his disappointment at Kar's less than stellar reaction to his cute kisses, but then he's never been really good at hiding his feelings. Everything was just going so great and he was trying so _hard_ to make it amzing and Karkat seemed like he was really enjoying it until... well, until he wasn't. Except he didn't mean that? Way to be confusin, Kar.

Eridan sets his hands on the tops of Karkat's thighs, feeling the warmth and firmness of them through the fabric. That's nice. He sort of gives them a soothing rub, wanting to make Karkat feel nice again too. "I nevver meant to make you feel fuckin horrible, Kar. An I like your jerkass side too, you knoww. I guess I'm just not so good at takin it wwell wwhen I'm tryin to kiss you all proper-like is all."

Karkat can be a pretty abrasive kind of guy, and that's no problem and it's a part of him Eridan really likes usually. Right now's not 'usually', though; right now he really wants to please Kar and it's hard not to take everything he says kind of personally when he's putting all he's got into these kisses. Eridan's no troll Matthew McConaughey or whatever, like Karkat is, but--yeah, he realizes this is just stupid--he hopes maybe what he lacks in skill he can make up for with feeling. But maybe it kind of worked, if Kar liked it after all?

"You don't havve to apologize. I'm just really fuckin glad you enjoyed it as much as I did, Kar." Eridan's face is burning violet again, but it's a pleased blush instead of a fuckin ashamed one, and everything's good. "You can showw me a different kind a kiss next if you wwant."

 

It's somehow impossible for you to take your eyes off him. Feeling somehow ashamed, chastened even, you are nevertheless kind of surprised and you don't even feel like trying to hide that. Well, well, well. You nod a little, licking your lower lip slightly, remembering in a weirdly savoring way the brush of his wet tongue over that very spot. For a nice long moment you say nothing, just taking in every little change in the expression on his face as he rubs your thighs, and it's hard not to bite your lip (you're trying to set an example here) as the long moment stretches into a minute or so of saying nothing, just watching him as he touches and feels up your legs.

Are you testing him, maybe? You realize suddenly that you probably are. But testing him how, why?

Who's going to blink first? Will it be him, by backing off and stopping touching you? Or will it be you, by opening your mouth and speaking?

Turns out, it's totally fucking going to be you.

You take a deep breath, and sort of ostentatiously clear your throat, which feels thick and full for some reason. When you open your mouth to speak, you voice comes out strained, cracked, hollow and very low pitched. You don't really sound like yourself. "Um... yeah. So. Do you know why I even said it that way?" There's a kind of burning hurt in your chest, an anxious burning hurt that doesn't make any sense at all. Beyond apologizing, it seems you somehow actually want him to understand.

 

Eridan blinks. His whole body stills, hands just resting warmly on Karkat's thighs, really caught off guard by all this. The rawness of Karkat's voice, the long pause before he even said anything, and that abashed look on his face is all making Eridan's digestive sac flip and twist inside him. So much for fixing things... now he kind of wishes they'd gotten to the I'm-sorry kind of kiss after all, since it looks like he's really going to need it sooner than he thought possible. What would a 'sorry-I'm-such-a-fuckin-idiot-I-don't-evven-knoww-wwhat-the-hell-to-say' kiss be like? And would it help matters any? With Eridan's luck, he'd just fuck things up even more if he tried it.

If only he could read Kar's mind and know exactly the right words. It makes him feel pretty fuckin sick not to know what Karkat meant by being a jerkface about his cute-style kissing skills at first, like it's something he should understand already. Like he doesn't know Kar like he thought he did. Or like he wishes he did.

Eridan licks his lips nervously, then the muscles of his jaw tense as he clenches them to keep from giving in to the urge to bite his lip yet again. That's something Kar doesn't want him to do, and at least he can manage to get that right.

"I... Kar, I gotta be honest. Perceptivve as I am, that wwas all really fuckin confusin to me. I knoww that's not the answwer you wwant to hear, an trust me it's not the one I wwant to be givvin either. So you can go ahead an schoolfeed me good about it." He picks at the cloth of Karkat's pants absently as he searches his face for a reaction. "Please."

 

That 'please' pretty much stabs and picks at you. It is so fucking un-Eridan-like and is therefore kind of calamitous.

Because you just can't fucking take all this un-Eridan-like behavior and moreover you find that you seriously hate seeing him like this, you can't really be held responsible for what happens next. You don't feel fucking sorry and Eridan shouldn't either, that is kind of the point here, and it's just that he blew out of proportion and misread something he should have figured was said in good faith, and it's sort of hard to just be all, fuck, give me the benefit of the doubt already, haven't I fucking earned it? Because. Well. You haven't, really. 

"Let's see," you mumble, voice still too low in pitch, wavering, as you slowly lean in over him and put your hands on Eridan's face, closing your eyes as you lean closer since it's going to be hard enough saying whatever is going to tumble out of your grubhole without also having to stare into Eridan's purply eyes of epic loneliness as you do so. "Forget about what I want to hear, that wasn't even the fucking point of me asking, for starters." You lean in closer. "And forget about saying please, you don't need to say please, I don't want to hear you say please when you have the fucking right to be confused, I'm a pretty epically complicated guy." You swallow, and lean in closer. Your nose bumps his. "Just, listen."

You swallow. This part is going to be fucking hard but clearly it needs to be said. You can't go on and keep having fun if you keep Eridan on pins-and-needles on this one kind of fucking essential point. Sort of gently, blindly, you brush your lips against the tip of his nose and use that as an orienting guide to move down and find his cheek, and then the side of his mouth. That's a good stopping place. "I like you, okay? We're friends and I like you. That's the point of why I'm here and the point of what is going on now. I like you and... I missed you." You can feel yourself wanting to tear up, like the huge lame gross tool you can be when it comes to fucking emotions, but you manage to tamp down on that bullshit posthaste. "So, like, if I say something is pretty okay that just means I don't want to spell shit out and get all feelingsy about it. I mean, fuck. The cute kiss shit, that's supposed to be fun, right? Not all serious. That's... that's all that meant."

You hope this makes sense. You're trying your best to be a good bro here, after all. A bro and... well, whatever else the fuck this is. "See?"

 

Aw, fuck, no fuckin way is Eridan getting all teary-eyed over this, not when he's already feelings'ed stuff up enough and made it all serious again when it doesn't have to be. He'll just add that to his Karktionary--'pretty good' means 'really great but no feelings now, only fun'. 

Well. Okay, it's more the fact Kar just said he likes him (three times) and also that he missed him and is sort of brushing his lips really gently and sweetly over his face while cradling his cheeks in his hands that's bringing the prickle of tears to Eridan's eyes. Nobody's said they _missed him_. And the only other time anyone ever really said out loud that they liked him was when Fef dumped him then said she still liked him and wanted to be friends, and that's a pretty bitter memory to be thinking of now, but... this is different. This is Kar opening a door to Eridan, instead of slamming one in his face.

"Thanks, Kar. You're the best. I think I get it noww," Eridan whispers thickly against Karkat's cheek. His hands slide up to wrap around Karkat's waist in a sort of awkward hug. "An I just wwant to say I like you too. An missed you so fuckin much."

That's safe enough to say, right, since Kar just said the same thing? It's the truth. Even if Eridan more than just likes Karkat and missed him more than he missed anybody else; he doesn't have to say that out loud. It'd be making things too feelingsy here, and this is supposed to be fun flushed demonstration time.

He presses a kiss to the corner of Karkat's mouth. "So... if you get to missin me you should come an vvisit again. In fact I'm insistin you do."

 

"Ha." It's pretty much predictable, really, that the first word out of your mouth is a barked-out laugh, all incredulous-sounding when really the emotion you are feeling is weird and very uncomfortable to you: stone cold relief. You open your eyes, and keeping your hands on Eridan's douche face you pull back a little just to look at him, and you can't stop your lips from twitching awkwardly in this awful, awful, preposterous _relief_. Fuckin' A. "Ha!" The way to go with such personal embarrassment, you've found, is just to embrace it, and so you are louder the second time, and the twitch of your lips settles into a fuckin' a-ffirmative grin, still awkward as hell but gaining steam. "Not so fast, mer-face." 

Before he can wrongly interpret your strange relief here as some kind of interpersonal indictment against his even more impressively awkward self, you find yourself petting his face in a way that anyone would classify as proud and fond and happy and not, you would like to stress to yourself, as weirdly relieved or anything. It is almost... _almost_ ... cute how he is just way so much more awkward than you. Only almost, though. "I'm not coming back until you visit me first, you insufferable prick, don't think you can pull one over on me, I have _no problems_ with coming back to you see you again, I guess I really want to, but first you're totally coming to my hive next and we will watch five hundred fucking human Dane Cook movies together in a row." Strider will totally die. But well. Eridan's eyes widen, and you do have to acknowledge that five hundred is probably too fucking much, even for you and especially for him. "Okay maybe more like a dozen."

It's so, so weird, how hard your bloodpusher is thrumping in your chest, like it's almost an agonizing feeling, you basically want to roll around and squirm to maybe make it go away, but that would be just such a horrible thing to do, so instead you do the next best thing: you lean in and take him for another deep, comprehensive, lingering kiss, and it's hard to do since this isn't an example kiss or anything, it's just what you are legitimately feeling. All of this strange and unsettling _relief_ needs a fucking outlet, after all, and kissing is something you've already established you two are compatible in, so you push him down and kiss the fucking breath out of him, and incidentally, out of yourself as well. You don't have to look at or think about either your or his awkwardness when you're kissing, and that's pretty nice. It's just... really nice. 

Eridan kisses back, just as hard and as intensely as you, and you kind of rock into the kiss, in a way that makes your bodies slide sexily against each other, and the proximity of your respective bulges and nooks becomes intensely important and distracting but not so much as that strange, unsettling sense of relief was. You still don't quite get what that was about. You go into this for as long as you can stand, until suddenly you start to feel the itchy beginnings of that pailing instinct and you know you need to stop, just stop, you have to stop it now... and so you do, breathlessly pulling back. The kiss was so much that Eridan's glasses are tilted all wrong on his face when you pull back, but you don't reach down to fix them. "Um. Uh... if that's okay with you," you say, dazed. You swallow. "Mer-face." 

And, before he can wonder or question it, you add, "... that was a 'thanks for getting my confusing and complicated genius' kiss, I guess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herongale here! So, um, yeah... it took me a while to do all my edits to this chapter, I AM REALLY SORRY! Lots of different things came together all at once in my real life which sort of delayed my starting on the edits, and then I'm kind of a perfectionist about it so even though I can't say I made any huge changes, I made tons and tons of SMALL ones. So anyway the delay was all me and Ten has the patience of a saint; I handed over the edited chapter to her yesterday and look wham SHE DID HER EDITS THAT FAST. THANK YOU, TEN, FOR BEING AWESOME. 
> 
> Anyway there is STILL tons to go... I don't even know what the word count is at currently, but it's well over 100,000 words. A bit of reassurance: there IS a projected end in sight, which we are writing towards. This RP-based fic is based on one pretty clear goal and once that goal is achieved, the story will be over. That said, it won't be the end of our tag-team writing and I ALSO have a sort of pre-SGRUB fic ALL OF MY OWN that I'm working on which I want to post, which is currently at over 15,000 words. Any further stuff we write will be a lot more traditional and non-RP based, I think... we both come from regular fanfic writing traditions and although the RP is fantastic, this story is already kind of mostly like fic and the only thing that keeps it from being all-the-way into the fic realm is that we are switching POVs back and forth. But Ten and I really love these characters so much and also we really, really love Erikar and I think we both want to write something that contains more characters and more action. OH AND WE ALSO WANT TO WRITE MORE SMUT TOO since whatever smut we've written here (it's a lot!) we still want to write more. 
> 
> The point is I want to thank everyone who is reading so far. Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you are enjoying reading it as much as we are enjoying writing it. I'll try to be less of a flake next time with my editing, so you all don't need to wait as long for the next installment. <33


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FIVE TIMES KARKAT WAS A LITTLE SHIT AND ONE TIME HE... FUCK, KARKAT IS NEVER NOT A LITTLE SHIT. 
> 
> Ten would like you all to know that this whole chapter= rather fuckin steamy. FYI, she is correct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like it'd be a good time to warn you all about massive bulge-blocking going on in this chapter. There is a lot of it; lots of sexiness that is not allowed to go too far for very good Reasons. Expect it to end in UST, at least for this chapter!
> 
> Also, there has been a ratings hike because while there is bulge-blocking going on, it also comes _dangerously close_ to the full sex!

Eridan nods as emphatically as the position of his head against the floor will allow, his glasses going even further askew on his face as he agrees and acknowledges everything Kar's saying. "Okay. Yeah, Kar, I wwant... that's more than... I'll, uh, havve to--" he swallows, blinking up at a half-blurry Karkat, "--havve to try gettin it more often, your complicated an confusin genius. If it means..." He licks his lips, tasting Karkat on them. How does he taste and feel so good? It's goddamn unfair is what it is. Goddamn unfair and fuckin amazing. "... more a this."

So, that was mostly coherent. Sort of. After having had the everlovin hell kissed out of him like that he can't be expected to use his thinkpan very well, overloaded with feelings as he is. And much as he's trying to keep from getting his feelings all over the place, Eridan's kind of overflowing with them. His bloodpusher could just burst right out of his chest. Or maybe meld with Kar's somehow, through their skin and clothes even. ... Kind of like he wants to meld other parts of their bodies. That's too far, though, and Eridan's going to be content with whatever Karkat wants to give him, no matter how much he's aching for more. And if it went that far there'd be no way for him to keep things simple like Kar wants. He'd get all his messy, complicated, fuckin gross needy feelings all over. Instead Eridan'll just, just rub Karkat's back like this and kiss him some more soon. Simple, easy, fun. See?, he can do this.

He smiles, all adoring and stupidly happy. Kar just invited him to come over to his hive. As a condition for visiting him here again. That's the easiest and most wonderful condition to meet _ever_. Okay, yeah, five fuckin hundred stupid Dane Cook movies sounds upright awful, but Eridan would fuckin watch them all if it meant he got to be with Karkat some more. Twelve is a lot more reasonable, even if it _is_ still a lot. If it makes Kar happy... fuck, who is Eridan kidding; it makes _him_ ridiculously happy to know this could be a regular back and forth kind of thing, these visits. That thought kind of makes his chest hurt; just earlier today he was so fuckin worried this day would be all he ever got. 

That tiny flicker of hope inside him is dangerously bright now. And there's not a damn thing Eridan can do to stop it or even ignore it. But he can dwell on how much it'll hurt if it gets crushed again later. Simple. Easy. Ha fuckin ha.

Eridan pulls Karkat down with him and kisses him again, soft and tender but also passionate, all swollen lips and warm breath and the gentle caress of tongue against the corners of Karkat's lips before moving to capture his mouth again. It's sweet and lingering, and Eridan sighs as he breaks it and leans back. 

"That wwas a 'thanks for puttin up wwith me' kiss." He smiles lopsidedly and swallows. "Showw me your favvorite kind a kiss next, Kar. An," Eridan squints up at Karkat, "fix my glasses? I wwant to see everything."

 

There is this thing that happens with wet paper, when it burns... it doesn't crackle, or burst into flames, but it does burn in the right setting, and instead of doing any of those things, for the longest time it simply smokes, blackening and charring and becoming grey cinder ash. The feeling in your chest right now is just like that, wet burning paper, and it's a feeling that is also somehow constricting like a band around your shoutpipes or whatever. You can't explain it, and you don't want to think about it either. You just... a distraction is good, a distraction is necessary, so you gulp for breath in as dignified a way as you can, nodding and getting into the mindset of your vaunted expertise. Slowly you calm back to more normal, less pained breathing. 

"My favorite kind of kiss isn't something I'd usually do," you say, slowly, gathering your thoughts. You think about Terezi, since your favorite kiss is basically hers. There are times when she kisses you in a way that only she could, and it makes you warm in a smouldering way to remember, and somehow of course that feeling folds into the burning paper sensation in your chest and stokes it, and it's like the imaginary smoke is scalding the inner linings of the smallest oxygenating tubules in your fucking badass shoutcore bronchioles. You fix Eridan's glasses as you speak, tilting his head as you do. Actually, first you take his glasses off altogether, and hold them off to the side as you look at his bare glasses-less face, taking in the fact that his stupidly purple eyes are even more ridiculously purple all eye-naked like this, and it's this shade of violet that you just can't but help associate with royal douchiness and royal dorkitude and royal shithive maggots and basically all shit that starts with 'royal.' This is uncomfortably close to romantic. 

So you put the glasses back properly, as they were, and tilt Eridan's face up a little more, making it more accessible. "I love Terezi's kisses," you confess, making sure to glare at Eridan while speaking, since he is not allowed to comment on your innate sappiness, only you are. "She likes to keep her glasses on too when we kiss, same as you I guess, although obviously hers don't help her see for shit." When Eridan doesn't smirk or get all assholish about your confession, you relax, taking a deep metaphorically smoky-feeling breath. "What she does kind of seems stupid I guess, but I love it, and so if this seems weird to you I don't care, okay? You'll shut up about it either way." You have placed your hands on the sides of his face, and you use them to make Eridan nod back at you in a slow, thoughtful-seeming way. There's no room for disagreement here, and anyway if you left Eridan to his own devices he'd just nod at you some more but in his own way, which is to nod like a fucking lunatic, all rapid and yes-yes-anything-for-you-kar and you're already pretty emotional right now, you don't need his feelings out and out _infesting_ you, or anything.

Ahem. _Any_ the fuck way. You keep your hands plastered to Eridan's face, as if that's the proper place for them or some vomitous crap like that, and then you lean back in, all sexy-like and slow, this time to... bury your face directly in his royal douche purple hair. You close your eyes, and take a deep, deep sniff. That's just the beginning.

"It's so fucking grape," you say in mock-wonderment, pretending to be able to smell colors. "Like rude grape human fruit juice that comes in scandalously shitty packaging, but which actually tastes pretty fucking good, although don't ever tell Strider I said that." Actually what you get a deep whiff of is more of that rose-scent Eridan is wearing. It... in this context well it does smell pretty scandalously good, obviously Eridan really shopped the shit out of rose-scented products and managed to find only the kind that really smells like actual roses, all sweet and petally and everything. 

To really kiss like Terezi you have to make this into some kind of extendedly sensuous experience, so that's exactly what you do, rubbing your face back and forth for a long, long time, planting close-mouthed kisses here and there as you keep making all these really deep sniffs, and wow um you feel like this is kind of super embarrassing suddenly, like you're accidentally revealing more intimate things about you than you've ever let anyone other than Terezi know, but... well, Eridan might not know that, and anyway you're going to finish what you started. You reach down and pull back for a moment, but only to tug on Eridan's shirt and make him sit up, and he looks all nicely hot and bothered (and extremely mussed) as you get him into the new position, but that's the only glimpse you give him (or get) until you are right back to snuffling at his head, inhaling deeply and then wrapping your arms around his head, trying not to get too poked by his stupid horns. You drop more dry kisses into his hair, but then (since this is what Terezi would do), you also wiggle your tongue down into his hairline right down to the scalp in a few places, which you know first hand is a kind of electric and strange (and not entirely awesome) feeling but which you've grown quite fond of because, well, Terezi. You'd do and enjoy anything Terezi.

"Now I do this." After you've had enough hair snorting (and that went on and on forever, you kind of really got into it for some reason), you move your nose and face down to the side of his neck, and continue sniffing there, long drawn-out inhalations right through the nostrils as you rub them into this skin, and follow with some really long lingering flat-tongued licks, like what you did earlier. It's kind of essential to do this directly on the skin, and it's also kind of essential to be blind when you do it, so you keep your eyes buttoned closed, and you are already clawing at the bottom of Eridan's fucking vvestments, pulling up and up until you have his chest mostly exposed, and then you go down and do some sniff-licking down there, right over his breastbone and down across the front of his chest, and wow he just... smells so, so fucking good. And tastes pretty damn good, too. You make sure not to get your tongue or nose anywhere near the gill area, since that would just be too intimate for this, but your fingers are moving along his skin and you find those and just lightly feather your fingers over them bit for a while as you lick, and lick, and lick, all over.

It's... slow but god your bulge is like dying. And your pleural shoutsacs continue to smolder like wet paper, smoking and stifling as you feel all sorts of feelings. Looks like you got infested after all. It's a while before you finish, since you seem determined to linger and go on and on, and Eridan seems equally determined not to even suggest you stop at all. Eventually and finally, however, you pull back, and you know your face is all messy and hot since that's always how Terezi's is, after she is done with you. You open your eyes. "Yeah," you say sort of sheepishly, but also sort of defiantly, and with a questioning tone to it as well. That whole time, your bloodpusher never stopped pumping a mile a minute, and it only seems to speed up now, flusteringly rapid and with a weird sense of anxiousness that you try to ignore. "It's kind of silly. I know."

 

Oh. Um. Well, fuck, that was all absolutely nothing Eridan expected at all. He was expecting to get something he could maybe keep in mind and use--shit, he can suck it up and be honest with himself at least--on Kar. In his fantasies, maybe, not like in real life, because Kar's not his matesprit, but he can pretend. Fuck can he pretend. As it is, all that sniffing and rubbing and licking has his face fully flushed and the entirety of his skin tingling.

It's kind of hard to overlook the fact that all this that Karkat did was intensely personal and undeniably Terezi. It's got her blind self imprinted all over it, not that that's a bad thing, what with Kar's face buried in Eridan's hair and his tongue just _fuckin everywhere_. But it means there's no way he can try this on Kar himself without it feeling like a bloody travesty. 

Anyway, with what little lucidity he could still muster, Eridan decides he should just go with it. Just let Karkat demonstrate his favorite kiss all the fuck over his head and then his chest because... no one's ever touched him like this before. And it's still making him feel like he's on fire, and drowning (or what he thinks drowning would feel like, if he could drown), and floating, and exploding all at once. Okay, the tongue in his hair and licking at his scalp was pretty fuckin weird, but not entirely bad. Not at all. Add shivering and fevered to that list of things that's all made him feel, like all his nerves are burning with electricity. That whole long 'kiss' was that fuckin good.

Eridan's pretty sure he let some really outright embarrassing sort of whimpering noises escape him as Karkat so delicately touched his gills and made thrilling damp, warm trails over the bared skin of his chest. But apparently Kar was so into it he didn't even notice, since he thought what _he_ , and not _Eridan_ , just did was silly. Silly things do not leave Eridan in tormented bliss, his pants having become so uncomfortable he can barely stand it, all restrictive and chafing against his painfully aroused and squirming bulge. 

Oh, but Karkat looks gorgeous, all disheveled and fuckin glowing as he is. Eridan takes a gulping breath and just stares for a moment. He should say something. Anything.

" _Fuck_ , Kar."

No, something better than that; that sounded like a fuckin desperate lovesick moan and not any sort of respectable response. Eridan's chest is still heaving, skin tingling as Karkat's tongue trails cool and dry. He can't tear his gaze away from those uncertain ruby red eyes.

"That was so... so fuckin... so fuckin good. Don't call it silly; it wwasn't silly. Swweet maybe." Eridan lifts a trembling hand to Karkat's face. "It was fuckin _movvin_ , Kar." 

And what he wouldn't give to show Karkat something so wondrous as that. But what chance does he have, now that he knows what Terezi makes Kar feel when she kisses like that?

 

So. It wasn't silly, Eridan says. You can feel the trembling in Eridan's fingertips as you re-settle yourself on Eridan's legs, which are all still sprawled out like when you had him lying down, but now you've got him sitting up again. He is looking at you like he thinks you are wonderful to look at. It's so obvious, and in a way, it really hurts. 

"Oh. Okay then, sure," you say, awkward as all hell, since what else are you even fucking supposed to say? Thank you, I know? You do know, but that isn't the point, the point of warning him that it was a silly kiss was to keep him from criticizing you (or worse, smiling at you indulgently, or whining about his clothes getting rumpled), but you don't really know how to handle all this extravagant praise, which in all honesty should really be for Terezi who is the devious and adorable inventor of your favorite kiss, but you know damn well Eridan's not really praising Terezi here. "I'll... tell her." 

But is that enough? You pretty much are sure it's not. If you leave it at that, he'll probably take it as a slight or like you're blowing him off or something. You sigh, or actually rather you pant, in a weird and strangled way, and then tilt your head up slightly, in order to encourage him to pet your neck some, but you also keep your razor-sharp eyes trained on Eridan's stupidly adoring face. You know that's probably not enough to say. So, distracted and rambling, you blurt out some more. "That's, well. I've never shown that off to anyone before, you know." You swallow. Your cheeks are burning up, and your bulge is like, rock hard and throbbing, and you can feel it squirming up towards your waistband, wanting to peek out. "Not even her. Even though it's, well, hers. She'll... you'll..." 

Eridan takes your cue, and starts touching down along your neck, and his expression is complicated; beyond the adoration, his eyes are dark and very hard to read. You know you sound really strained right now, voice wavering and shaking almost as much as his fingers. Because apparently your fucking mutant body wants to be as gross as possible, you can even feel some small amount of sweat forming on your brow, even as your blush deepens. Sexy, Vantas. So fucking sexy. "If you liked it that much, um, well... maybe I guess I can do that for her some time..."

 

Bloody hell, what's Eridan supposed to say to all that? He's not even sure exactly why his bloodpusher's suddenly in his throat, or why his digestive sac feels like he's swallowed a stone. All while he's still just wanting to lavish all his adoration on Karkat, who's still got his blood humming through his vascular system and all throbbing insistently in illicit places. It's confusing.

Maybe if he just keeps stroking the soft curve of Kar's neck, trying to soothe the anxiety out of him with ringed fingers brushing into the hair at the nape of his neck and behind his auricular opening and then back down, he'll be able to sort himself out enough to think of something to say that's not going to offend Karkat.

Because there was a fuckin lot of Ter in what Kar just said. That must what's got Eridan's heart twisting in his chest. He can't just say something like 'no, don't tell Ter, it's fuckin embarrassin howw much I liked that, an I wwant to keep this somethin special betwween us'. That's idiotic. If it weren't for Ter, Eridan would never have had Karkat's tongue all over his chest and his nose all breathing so deeply in his hair. Besides, Terezi is Karkat's matesprit, of course he's going to tell her evverythin. And that's good, and pretty fuckin cute how he's so intent on wanting to share a kiss that personal with her. Eridan knows it's an upright honor to have experienced that with Karkat at all, precisely because it _was_ so personal. Hell, Kar had never even let Ter herself know how much he liked her kiss, or shown her how good it feels anyway.

So it's goddamn stupid of Eridan to be feeling all, well, jealous. Eridan looks away, watching his hand move down the column of Karkat's neck. _That's_ it exactly. He's a little fuckin jealous of Ter, that it's _her_ kiss Kar likes best, and that it's _her_ he wants to share it with now he knows what kind of response Eridan had to it. That's not fair of Eridan and he knows it. Karkat's not _his_ , and even if he was he wouldn't go telling him what he could and couldn't share with Ter. Eridan might be a one-matesprit kind of guy, but he knows Karkat's not like that. He's into that poly-lovey shit, and Ter is all up his quadrant, so even if (IF, fuck his stupid hope) Eridan got to be his matesprit (by some fuckin miracle, and it's not like he even _believes_ in those), it'd be well and good for Kar to be sharing all and everything with her.

Maybe someday Eridan'll get good enough at flushed kissing to give Kar (or, shit, whoever ends up being his matesprit; he should be so fuckin lucky) a kiss that'll knock him for as high a loop as Ter's does.

"You do that, Kar," Eridan finally says, giving Karkat a small but genuine smile. "Tell her an showw her. She better fuckin upright melt in your arms." 

He brushes a hand over Karkat's brow, smoothing the hair off his face and wiping away a little sheen of red-tinged sweat. Does that count as a sort of pap? Eridan hopes so; it's about the most reassuring thing he knows to do without saying 'hey, shoosh, you're not supposed to be the awwkwward one here, romance expert'. Even though it is really cute.

 

You close your eyes, finally, when Eridan wipes at your face. His rings are a bit cool on the skin of your neck, and so you tilt your head back further as he pets your hair and strokes your skin. You... you're not sure, but you might be liking this. A lot. Anyway you basically just ignored every word he just said; it sounded like he was saying some encouraging bullshit so you ignored it, but now you wish you hadn't because what if he'd said something important like 'i fuckin lovve you kar im meltin in your arms' and you didn't notice? Huge fucking faux pas, that. You know he didn't say that, and thank fucking god--you would find that mortifying, probably, but... but... you need to collect yourself, shit. And you need to do that right the fuck now. 

So time for some direct-as-fuck honesty. "Eridan," you say, and god you are panting so hard you can barely get just that one word out. "Eridan." Your voice is still so low and wavering and fuck, who cares about setting fucking examples, you bite your lower lip and bite it hard. "Eridan." Wow, this isn't working, all you're doing now is fucking tasting his name, saying it over and over and finding it fucking tasty or some shit. You want... so fucking much... to beg for more. You really do. You really do. You do. 

Instead, you scramble out of his lap. "Eridan." Like some kind of slithery creature of the deep, you roll out of his lap and off further away from the disorganized pile of wands off into the middle of his floor on whatever kind of tapestry carpet or something, which of course he's got laid down like a typical douchebag. Sort of casual-like, but probably not, you run your hand over the top of your pants, just to feel to make sure that your bulge isn't actually peeking out over the hem yet. It's not, but it's a fucking close thing, wow and whoops. You hastily roll over onto your stomach, facing Eridan now from a lying down position on the floor. You feel embarrassed. "Shit, Eridan." 

Uhhh... ahhh. Stop being so hot, Eridan. Oh my god... that is what you _want_ to say, but like hell will you even say it, you'd never hear the fucking end of it. I'm so turned on, I can't even fucking think. That's slightly better. Maybe. Probably not. Oh god. You manage somehow not to glare at him, but that's also a pretty fucking close thing. Instead, you roughly run your fingers through your hair, having a mini-crisis. Arghhh why why whyyyyy. This is not happening. Except it is. Fuck. "Come over here and touch my hair, or shoosh and kiss my face or whatever, but the lap is _off limits_ until I collect myself." You cross your arms on the floor and then drop your chin down on them, sort of flushed and glowering. "I am fucking _uncollected_ currently, obviously." You take a deep breath, continue to glower, hoping it's a sexy and encouraging glower and not a mean and discouraging one. "No touching below the belt and I'll make it up to you in a bit with the best fucking lesson ever, I promise." 

Now you just need to think of what that lesson will be. At that, you bury your head in your arms. 

 

Whoa. If Eridan thought his cheeks couldn't get a more violent shade of violet, he was dead wrong. Seeing, _hearing_ , Karkat so... uncollected... has him even more uncollected than he already was himself. He's sorely tempted to, uh, discreetly reach down to adjust his straining bulge, but maybe it's better for it to stay trapped where it is. Thank his fuckin amazing fashion sense his pants are so tight. They're keeping everything well under wraps, even if it is kind of painful. Besides, if he makes a move to do anything, Kar'll see, just like he just saw--he bites his lip--just like he saw Kar brushing the front of his pants just now. And that glower is just fuckin _sultry_ ...

Kar's right. Time to take it even slower, before they get to the point of making huge (glorious) mistakes.

No touching below the belt, yeah, Eridan can do that. He wouldn't dare touch without asking anyway. No sitting in each others' laps either, incidental touching of that area's also off limits. Okay, also something he can do. Especially since Karkat just invited, or pretty much demanded really, some head-petting and soft kissing. 

"Yeah, Kar," Eridan agrees easily. He chooses to leave off saying there's no making up necessary, he likes cuddling just as much as whatever else they were doing. That can just go unsaid, since he's not about to turn down an even more fuckin incredible lesson from Karkat later. "Leavve it to me."

Eridan slides no more gracefully from the pile of wands as Karkat had, sort of clumsily moving to lie stretched out on his stomach the opposite way from Karkat so their heads are next to each other but their bodies are sprawled the other way. He pillows his head on one arm, looking adoringly into Karkat's face. A soft kiss on the nose, then he settles back. With his free hand, he touches the spot he just kissed and then slowly brushes his fingers up over Karkat's forehead and slowly, deliberately, up to card into his hair, pushing it back away from his face. It's a slightly awkward angle, but for now it'll have to do. Eridan would have liked to have Karkat's head cradled in his lap for optimum hair-pets, but that's just all kinds of off-limits and wrong right now. 

He continues to slide his fingers through Karkat's hair, giving little scritches here and there. Every now and then he pulls his hand back and then traces Kar's features, running gentle fingers over his red-flushed cheekbones, or his eyebrows, watching for the muscles in his face to relax, before carding his fingers back up into his hair again. Slowly, his breathing begins to settle. It's soothing, just tenderly touching Kar's face and head. Eridan's probably got a sappy smile on his face, his eyes are probably glazing with just happiness, but that's all right. Everything's good. Couldn't be fuckin better...

 

Wow, the complete lack of bullshit Eridan is putting you through almost makes you suspicious, for a moment. He's _got_ to know, right, what a totally glorious opportunity this is for him to go on and on (and on) about his fucking gorgeous handsomeness and his spectacular sexy taste in fragrances and whatever else it might occur to him to brag about after bringing you to this shameful, lowly state of malcomportment. Right? Right?? All adoration of your magnificence aside, the Eridan of old just wouldn't have been able to fucking help himself. But nope, Eridan just plops himself down on the floor and doesn't even angle up for some side-to-side cuddling (which would be nice in less revved up circumstances but... not now. Not fucking now). He does exactly what you ordered him to do, and not a hair more.

It's... well, fuck it all. It's very soothing. Your breathing settles, just like Eridan's is doing, and slowly, achingly, your arousal also similarly simmers down. Your bulge gets less active in your pants, less searching and pulsingly full. Eridan is... okay, you'll admit it here in the sanctity of your thinkpan since he's not being a prick and insisting on it... pretty cute right now, although maybe that's just because you're looking at him from a weird angle and such. Maybe everyone looks fucking cute from upside down. Anyway. As you're calming down, and you're kind of getting back into something that is akin to feelings jam space, you've got some... curiosities. Things you've always wanted to know, as well as things that are just occurring to you now to want to know. As long as you've got Eridan obedient to your every word...

"Why did you move so far away?" You ask, all shooshed-like and plaintive. Eridan's fingers on your face pause, and so you take this opportunity to adjust yourself, unfolding your arms and moving them down to your side, so it's nothing but your bare cheek against the thin tapestry carpeting, which just so happens to be a poor shield indeed against the cold concrete floor of his lighthouse bedroom. "I mean, I get it sort of. You're all into the ocean, and this is your natural place, and also you probably didn't feel the most welcome around everyone, but... Gamzee lives on the shore too, you know, not all that close to Fef and Sollux either, and... he doesn't hate you, Eridan. You could have... I don't know, had a lighthouse or something near him?"

It occurs to you mid-way through speaking, that what you're really saying is that you wanted Eridan to live near your own damned moirail, which is basically the same as saying that you wanted him in a place convenient to you, too. But. Well... your cheeks are already flushed as fuck, what more can they do? Glow in the fucking dark? It's just... you are really liking these gentle touches from Eridan. So different from Terezi, who rarely touches you gently at all. It's just... so nice.

 

Eridan's hand wavers, and he kind of hesitates and finally lets his hand drop, sort of resting it next to Karkat's face and barely brushing the knuckles of a couple fingers against his burning cheek. He needs to think, and really getting into petting Karkat proper takes more concentration than he can give right now.

That's a fuckin hard question to answer. Wasn't he just thinking earlier what a fuckin mistake it was to choose to live so far away from everyone? That sense of regret only grows and opens like a hole in his core. Karkat's words... he sounds like... like he wants Eridan closer. That's wonderful and painful all at the same time.

He swallows thickly, watching the light glint off the stones in his rings as his fingers keep softly stroking Karkat's cheek. "Wwell. It wwas all a those reasons you just said, plus me bein a fuckin idiot. ...If nobody wwanted me around, then I didn't need any a them either." Fuckin stupid, he knows, but Eridan still can't help the bitter edge to his words. He curls his legs up to his belly, moving to lie on his side, and bites his lip. "Punchline to the wworld's fuckin wworst joke, I wwas wwrong."

Just like so many other things; add another tick mark to the count of things Eridan fuckin Ampora was wrong about. It's still really hard to admit any of it out loud, too. Karkat better know just how monumental it is he's telling him without any bullshitting around it. The truth is, he really hates being alone. Being lonely. It is the upright worst feeling in all the universes.

Something else Karkat said Eridan wants to be clear on. He licks his lips, eyes flicking up to briefly meet Karkat's. "Gam doesn't hate me? You're sure? I can nevver tell wwhat's goin through his thinkpan, an he's so close to you... I thought. I dunno. You wweren't talkin to me..." He sighs. This isn't coming out right. "I wwas scared. Scared an hurt an so I got myself my owwn privvate island wwhere I could feel like I belonged. Like I was fuckin important an needed. But..."

He's pretty fuckin scared now too, his bloodpusher all choking him again, like admitting it made it worse. His lip's getting worried raw, and he can't stop himself. "I could movve. I guess some other body could wwatch the reefs out here. I'd like to be closer to evveryone if you wwant to knoww, Kar."

Karkat especially. Gamzee too, he guesses. And if he lived on shore, maybe other people would come around... Rose maybe. Kan? Eventually? 

Without all his bravado Eridan feels really goddamn pathetic. Pathetic and vulnerable. "Don't repeat any a that to anybody. I fuckin wwon't stand for it. I'll just... upright die a mortification an shame."

If he moves closer, he doesn't want it to be with his tailfin between his legs. But if he could do it with his dignity intact, Eridan would jump at the chance. 

 

Ahhhhhh. That all sounds really true. And really, really sad. You have to admit, you weren't prepared for this much honesty, but you won't even pretend you're not glad to hear it. Eridan always used to front so hardcore, like, all the fucking time, and it was always so fucking annoying and it didn't get any better when he ended up hitting rock bottom and his front was crumbling before everyone's eyes, especially your own, but he _still_ wouldn't own up to it, writing off all of his little so-called lapses as just momentary weaknesses, hardly worthy of commenting on, taking his douchey ego with him right down to the bitter fucking chainsawed-off end. 

You roll over onto your side, so you can face him properly, and it's a good thing you have such small horns otherwise this might be a bit hard to do (just about the only good thing about having such fucking nubby horns, fuck). The small bit of defiance there at the end from Eridan just made what he was saying all the more sad. Well, fuck. Could you feel any more guilty about ignoring him now? This particular well is fucking bottomless, apparently. Fuck. Oh well, you asked for it. And got the answer you wanted. Casually, as if it's no big deal (even though you can totally feel yourself wanting to tear up, shit), you reach over and put your hand on the top of Eridan's stupid nice-smelling, good-looking, semi-sorta-cute douchey head.

Best not to cater to whatever residual paranoia and fronting still exist in him, though. You decide not to address the question about Gamzee... you said it once, you weren't fucking making it up, and wouldn't lie about shit like that. And you also decide that his plea/demand that you also not tell anyone is beneath you to even discuss. You've never shared his fucking secrets, not any of the important ones anyway and not even most all of the unimportant ones (okay you totally fucking told Terezi exactly the number of scarves Eridan reported he owned to you, once, and other little interesting details like that, but you'd have to be pretty much unfeeling and untrollian not to). Even _thinking_ about addressing those fucking weaselly points makes you almost preemptively grouchy and pissed-off, so you don't. Instead, you lean in and press your lips to his forehead, and kiss him all good and proper and almost like a moirail, like you'd do for Gam.

"Well, okay." You kiss him again. A tear might or might not streak down face into your nose. "It's settled, then. I'll ask Gamzee to look around for some likely places for you, and then I'll check them out to make sure they are not horrible fetid wastes of shorespace. He's got some pretty fucking awesome beaches near him, you need to learn the true glory of beach romance anyway." Oh wait was that like a come-on? Shit. Fuck you, Vantas, you just totally like to roll into these little awkward moments, don't you? "Or at least beach romance scenery, I guess. I'll even..." You swallow. This next part represents an actual sacrifice on your part, and not one that secretly will get your blackrom fantasy life flourishing. "... I'll even force Egbert to help. That lazy fuck needs to make actual use of of his stupid powers. I'm not even kidding." You swallow again, and it kind of hurts, since apparently you've been swallowing a lot, way more than usual. You will _not_ let him thank you for this. You fucking will not. You decide to change the topic. "So, is like troll Gladiator still your favorite movie? That movie sucks so bad, you know. I have watched it four times now and I do _not_ see the fucking appeal."

There. You, Karkat Vantas, are a goddamn genius. You dealt with that like a fucking palhoncho _boss_.

 

Now Eridan's bloodpusher is choking him up for a different reason. Karkat is so fuckin good to him. He sort of tilts his head into Karkat's touch, reaching his hand up to brush that tear off of Karkat's face. That'll have to be his tender gesture of really damn sincere thanks, since it sounds like Kar doesn't want to talk about this anymore. He can fuckin respect that.

But it's settled. Eridan's moving. Kar's going to help. He's going to enlist Gam and John too, and that's going out of his way to help. Eridan could fuckin cry right now too. He could bury his face in Kar's chest and hug the breath out of him. But he won't do any of that. 

Nope, he'll just savor the sense of overflowing warmth inside him in silence and renew lavishing his affection on Karkat's head with fingers combing through his hair.

"Troll Gladiator's still a fuckin good movvie, Kar, an four wwatches says you didn't totally hate it!" Eridan says. Karkat watched his favorite movie _four times_. That's bloody touching is what that is, that he gave it that many chances. He gives a tuft of Karkat's hair a playful tug, a smirk starting to tug at his lips. "Troll Bourne Identity's my favvorite right noww though; havve you seen that one?"

It's full of intrigue and action, and a lead troll who's starting over from scratch and finding out who he is after being pulled from the sea, overcoming all kinds of crazy challenges and assassination attempts with the help of a young lady troll. They're falling in love too, which Kar should really like. And which Eridan really likes too; romance is kind of his thing as well, even if he's no expert on it like Karkat is, and even though he needs more than just that in his movies to keep him interested. Anyway, it's a film he can really identify with. Maybe Kar would see the parallels too... a dashing young guy finding himself anew, the troll who helps him when no one else will...

Eridan gets a little lost in his thoughts there, fingers moving with less focus through Karkat's fluffy-spiky altogether adorable hair. "Wwe could wwatch it later. Tomorroww. Wwith the other romance flick you brought."

 

"Sure, fine... but wait, back that shit up. The only reason I watched your stupid movie that many times was to marvel over how you managed to cast me in the most useless and stupid role in the entire thing!" This remains a sore point for you, and you hastily find yourself sitting up, Eridan turning his head to look up at you questioningly. You frown and pap the tip of his nose with one finger. Of course, it remains the most Eridan thing in the world that he takes his favorite movies and re-casts all the roles with people from his own damn life, in order to fit some kind of idiosyncratic, silly personal fantasies of his own, not to mention in this particular case how he cast himself as the main fucking character, the eponymous 'Gladiator' in question. 

Okay, it's a little cool that he cast you as Feferi's moirail, Luscious or whatever... the one that the Empress (aka the Condesce) is using to blackmail Feferi about to keep her in line, and it's also cool that you and Feferi were the two people Eridan's alter-gladiatorial self were most concerned about saving, even above his own stupid life, even above his stupid little revolution, but... well...

"I didn't even have a single fight scene in the whole damn thing!" Outrageous. It's a movie that's absolutely drenched in blood from opening credits to the end roll, and you (well, the "you" that Eridan decided was you, anyway) didn't get a single fucking kill. "I'm a goddamn deadly threshecutioner, show me some pride!" You'll just kind of sidlingly gloss over the fact that you've never actually killed another troll before in real life, either. Fuck real life. "Never do that again. Cast me as someone cool in your next hero fantasy, okay?"

You'd actually like to demand veto power over all his future vanity casting decisions, actually. But that might be going to far. Best to leave that as a fond fantasy dream for the future.

At this point, you kind of casually glance down in your general bulge vicinity. Things seem to have calmed down to a far more acceptable state of arousal now. So without any sort of aplomb at all, you flip over onto your side, lying down again but this time head-to-toe aligned with Eridan, so you can look at him face-to-face and without any upside-downness corrupting and artificially elevating his cuteness factors. "But okay," you continue on, seamlessly picking up from Eridan's actual proposal before you got derailed by setting him straight on a very crucial point of contention. "Let's watch that after my movie." Very, very carefully, you move closer, close enough to kiss, but keeping your lower parts separated by a safe chaste distance. Now you can give him nice kisses again, you suppose. You lean in, _way_ super casual-like, and with parted lips brush your mouth against his. "If it sucks though, I demand a penalty game victory prize. Something like... I dunno... you have to let _me_ do the casting on this one?" Now you place one hand on the side of his face, as if daring him to object. "Agreed?"

You'll totally make yourself the hero, by the way, if this turns out to be the case. You know this already, sight unseen.

 

It's really fuckin hard to take exception to Karkat's penalty game victory prize of recasting Eridan's favorite movie _his_ way when he's being all tender like that again. He's tempted to agree just to see if maybe Kar will kiss him again for it, or maybe just move his hand a little bit back to give his aural fin a gentle stroking. But, goddamn it, he's pretty attached to his own (fuckin perfect) casting! Even the Gladiator role he gave Karkat was perfect, despite the lack of killing his character got up to.

"Your Gladiator role wwas badass in a different but no less important wway, Kar," Eridan says, reaching up to cover Karkat's hand on his face with his own. Softly, he strokes the top of Karkat's hand with his thumb. "It wwas up to you to savve the wwhole a fuckin Rome an make it a republic again in the end, all in my place. See? That's the most important role evver."

He brushes a kiss against Karkat's lips. There's nobody Eridan would trust more with that kind of responsibility. And his role in The Bourne Identity is no less important... though a damn sight more embarrassing to reveal, given he's the main fuckin love interest of Eridan, who is of _course_ the lead guy. ... Maybe it'd be okay to let Kar recast it after all, and just keep his own casting to himself. Eridan knows even if Kar changes the roles around, in his heart he'll still be Jason Bourne and Kar will be Marie.

"Anywway," he says, finally addressing Karkat's 'prize' suggestion, "you're gonna lovve The Bourne Identity so you wwon't havve to go an mess up my awwesome castin. But yeah, fine, if you hate it you can do the castin again. If you can guess wwho I'vve decided you are in it."

There, maybe that'll help preserve his own casting and give Karkat enough of a concession he'll be satisfied with it. Kar wouldn't guess he was the (plenty badass) love interest, would he? After all, Eridan cast this new favorite movie before he really realized just how flushed he was--is--for Kar...

 

You like that Eridan has a counter-proposal for you, it would be kind of weak (or at least, less fun) if he didn't. Also, it's only right that he stick up for his favorite movie and vouch for it like that: a movie should never be called a troll's favorite if said troll can't advocate for it to others, this is one of your ironclad rock-solid beliefs. Eridan has some extremely questionable taste at times, so it's just as likely he's stupidly wrong and misinformed about what sort of things you will or won't like, but that's okay, you are always happy to schoolfeed anyone who has educational deficiencies in that particular area. At length.

Eridan has your hand lightly trapped against his face (you could retrieve it, no problem, but why bother?), and just now he returned your lip-brushing kiss with a similar one of his own. God that felt good. Just... refreshing, kind of. You smile slightly.

But anyway, back to troll Gladiator. "Rome was doomed," you point out. "Like, not during that asshole's lifetime, I guess he did an okay job, but doomed is fucking doomed." Once upon a fucking time, just the thought of that would have sent you into spirals of angst and self-loathing, but Jade has been helping you find some perspective on things like this, so your smile doesn't fade. In fact, you sort of laugh a little, because there's a way in which this is all some really rich, really priceless joke. To show you're not feeling secretly bitter or anything, you close your eyes, and lean forward to give Eridan a better kiss, slower and lingering and with just a small, teasing amount of tongue. Mostly you're just tasting, assessing the shape of his lips, finding the last lingering flecks of his blood, smoothing over the chapped parts. You hope Eridan can taste how your former absolute fatalism has transformed into something you've been assured by Jade is a little bit healthier, at least. 

It takes a while before the kiss is over, but when you pull back, you open your eyes and are still smiling. "Anyway, fuck Rome."

The thumb that Eridan is using to rub the back of your hand feels rough and calloused, and it occurs to you that's probably from ropes and all the sailing and stuff he does. It's sometimes hard to remember that this degenerate actually has a hard-working side to him, too, and you realize you've never actually seen him in an actual watercraft, sailing-type or otherwise, despite how much you know he loves and lives for the fucking things. Your bloodpusher does some weird squirmy shit inside your chest as you realize you'll get to see him at the thing he loves tomorrow, and so you decide to concede to Eridan's counter-proposal, after appropriately fucking Rome. You continue. "Okay, and I'll try and guess your stupid casting for me, I guess."

 

Doomed is doomed, huh? Well, okay, Eridan can agree with that. But it doesn't mean Rome wasn't great while it lasted and worth fighting for. And Eridan would be willing to bet the Romans didn't see their doom coming until there just wasn't any hope of saving their empire left. He doesn't have a lot of time to dwell on that and all the terrible associations with their own past, thankfully, because then Kar's kissing the bitterness right out of the whole situation. And then Karkat's 'fuck Rome' has a sort of letting the past stay past vibe to it that Eridan likes. Fuck Rome, fuck all that was; it's time to make a new life.

Eridan's smiling too as Karkat pulls away. Now that he's not so fuckin alone, he's got more hope for this new life than he's ever had. And with Kar here with him, he feels more ready to move on with it than before too. Maybe that's fuckin sappy, but it's also kind of a fuckin breakthrough for him. He's finally getting a taste of how sweet it could be... and if it's half as sweet as Kar tastes and feels, it might even be worth all the hurt that came before.

His bloodpusher gives an excited lurch as Karkat agrees to guessing Eridan's casting for him in The Bourne Identity. He makes a promise to Kar right then in his mind that if he guesses right, he won't try and pass it off. He'll tell him he's right. That thought is scary as hell, but Eridan feels like he owes it to Kar to be honest if he's going to play it this way. He won't guess it though. No way. "Good," is all Eridan says.

Then he's letting go of Karkat's hand and reaching out to adoringly brush the hair off his forehead again, letting his fingers slide into the softly tangled mess of Kar's hair. He finds himself wondering what kind of scent would be a good one to think of for Karkat, being as Eridan really likes surrounding himself with little reminders of his favorite people. Fef will always be bubbly saltwater spray. Rose is rose, of course. Kar is... well, Ter would say cherry, but Eridan doesn't think that really fits him. He's not that sickly sweet. Something warm and red, with some bite to it, some hard exterior covering up softness and tenderness. That's more what Kar is to Eridan.

"Mm, clovve. Or cinnamon maybe. Wwith vvanilla," Eridan murmurs against Karkat's lips, not really realizing he's said anything aloud. While his mind was wandering, his hand and mouth have done the same, tongue sliding curiously into the soft corners of his mouth and over his pliant lips while his fingers are still carding absently, exploringly, through Karkat's hair, getting lost in its thickness.

 

Wow. Maybe it's because of Terezi and how she does something similar, maybe it's because you've known Eridan so long, or maybe it's simply because you had the recent revelation about Eridan's rose-scented fragrance (which isn't really coming to your nose anymore, you must have habituated yourself to it), but you totally get what Eridan means by his little flavor declaration. He's obviously got to be talking about you, and he's... trying to figure out what fits you best? As a flavor or more likely, as a scent? That's... fuck. That's really goddamn fucking romantic. 

But it's romantic in a way you approve of. You like sentimentality, you'll admit it. At least here in your own fucking mind, you'll admit it. You also approve of how fusslessly and naturally Eridan slid into kissing you back, like it's no big gigantic fucking deal, like it's okay to just let go and enjoy it without fussing over the fucking implications. Also there's something about being petted on the head that you just really go for: it's like your whole face and head is always so tense, so having your hair combed and brushed back feels more than relaxing... it's all fucking white science up in here, sparking rushes of feeling shooting from the nape of your neck up and down your spine, making you just want to curl up into him and be petted like this... forever.

Basically, it just feels really, really fucking good. With a sort of calm, intense curiosity, you move your hand from Eridan's cheek over to his fins, touching the delicate membrane of the webbing, thin and warm and velvety and smooth. Being exquisitely careful with your claws, you watch as you thumb each segment sequentially, from top to bottom, and then back up again. And then you rub along the spines. Eridan makes some low groaning moaning noises when you do this, and you realize this is probably a huge turn-on for him, absolutely huge, and somehow this knowledge really turns you on too. You sort of naturally deepen the kiss, and your fingers slide from his fins down the side of his neck and over his shoulder (feeling the firmness of the muscles there), tracking along and then hooking under his arm, so you can wrap your arm around his back, and it seems you pull him a bit closer. Not enough to touch... down there... but the heat from his body, it radiates, and you can feel it. Or maybe you are just imagining you feel it. Either way, it's like some kind of mentally magnetic force, and you want to pull him even closer. But you won't do that. No. You won't. 

To actually keep yourself from doing that, you let your hand wander down his spine, to the small of his back. You grab a fistful of fucking vvestments, and hold tight, pressing your fist into his body.

Terezi says you taste like cherry. You've always gone with that. You're not going to interfere with Eridan's little process here, either. You'll let him pick whatever he wants, as a flavor or a fragrance for you. You won't even comment on what he said, letting it go, letting it slip into the realm of it-never-happened, if that's what he wants. It's fine. You really want to know what he decides, but... probably, someday, you'll figure it out? The very idea that this is something that probably _will_ happen in your future gives you a delicious chill over your entire body.

 

Oh, god, Karkat could fuckin just keep on rubbing on his fins all fuckin night and Eridan wouldn't mind. He's so delicate with them, like Vriska never was, and while there's something to be said for the fiery jolts of pain she used to cause absolutely nothing compares to the liquefyingly good feeling of the soft pads of Kar's fingers gently rubbing them. Especially the spines. The webbing kind of tickles pleasantly to be touched, but the spines... having those rubbed sends tiny waves of electricity buzzing down Eridan's nerves, gathering at the base of his skull and then fizzing so fuckin pleasantly down his spine. And turning him on. So fuckin much, yes.

It's probably a really good thing Karkat stops. This way, with Karkat's hand clutching in his vvestments (it's really unprecedented how little he even really cares how mussed he's gotten, this is all just so goddamn good), Eridan can focus just enough to resist the urge to pull Kar on top of him. He doesn't want Kar to get all flustered and pull away again, even though that's been the smart thing to do. Karkat's fist in his lower back is grounding.

Mmm, maybe he's more like chai. Spicy and sweet, and so good Eridan just keeps on wanting more. He imagines drinking Karkat in like chai and can't help pushing the kiss further, losing himself in the taste. Karkat is velvety soft and warm, the sharpness of the edges of his teeth adding another dimension of texture to the feel of kissing him. The hard strength of the fist in his back is contrasting deliciously with the fluffy softness of Kar's hair, too...

Sweet and spicy. Hard yet soft. And so, so warm. 

Eridan's losing himself in Karkat, his fingers buried in Karkat's hair to mold against his head as they kiss. As he combs his fingers through every part of Karkat's hair that he can reach, he gently, carefully drags his claws against his scalp, loving the way it makes Kar shiver. He's not expecting it when his hand brushes the base of one of Karkat's nubby little horns. Gasping into the kiss, he pulls his hand away entirely. 

Shit, that was... that was taking it too far, probably. Even if it _was_ an accident. Horns there are fuckin sensitive; more so than even fins are, Eridan is pretty sure.

 

You freeze for a moment, tensing all the way up. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck... oh fuck, wait, that's it??? Terezi pretty much has a fetish for your horns and their stupid nubbiness, and so when you and she are fucking pailing, she regularly gets you to the point of absolute ragey turned-on incoherence simply by messing around up there, licking and touching and rubbing and... doing everything, basically. So at first it's like a fucking flashback to every time you've ever done it with her, a warm and good and infuriatingly perfect tease that never fails to drive you completely shithive maggots. Every. Single. Time.

It's unbelievable how turned on you are right now. You are leaking small amounts of genetic material right into your undergarments, what the humans call 'precum' because they are like the grossest shits ever, especially Dave fucking Strider and especially _squared_ , John fucking fucker Egbert. Eridan, however, is no gross human and so he escapes your scathing mental opprobrium for the moment; he rates in Terezi territory actually, at least in terms of sheer fucking sexiness, and so it takes you some confused moments of random rage and lust before it occurs to you that Eridan only did that on accident. Oh.

You discover that his random, too-short brush against your candy corn horn has you writhing and thrashing a little, and with some very strained effort, you calm yourself roughly and semi- pull back. Not away, because that's like rejection and you are nothing but hungry for more. More but safely, with limits. Wow you got back to this place with him a lot faster than you thought. A part of you wants to actually croak out the word "more," or rather groan it in some really sexified way, but you can't, you fucking mustn't, and so you fucking don't. Another part of you itches to retaliate, to reach up and grab the base of his horn and squeeeeeze that motherfucker for all it's fucking worth, to show him just exactly how to do that shit, but no you're not going to do that either, you can't, you won't... not yet. And wow fuck did you just think 'not yet' to yourself no that has got to fucking cease immediately.

It's too hard to think. Plans are impossible. The only thing you have is a hazy but insistent sense of what you can't do, and so it's not really a surprise that your body defaults into doing something that your brain has somehow decided is still permissible... you loosen your grip on whatever fucking expensive material comprises his upper garment (you are a bit hazy on what would be the most pretentious way to refer to his pullover top or whatever the hell it is), loosening your fist as well, and then with a bit of controlled, searching lust, you tease your fingers under the waistband of his pants, just a bit. You pull out of the kiss, but just a moment. "Keep... touching," you say with a shaky, low gasp. "Not... there, but."

It is impossible to complete that statement, since you dive back into the kiss, but in a sort of soft way, tongue going for Eridan's lips and his sweet, careful, and really, really sexy tongue, going all just balls to the max with this fucking kiss. _Anywhere_ you think to yourself breathlessly, figuring that mind reading is totally possible in the throes of totally bro-like friendly passion, wanting him to catch your unstated but insistent drift. _Anywhere else. Except, well. You know, Eridan. You know_.

 

'Fuckin... wwhere?' Eridan thinks, too occupied with kissing Karkat thoroughly to say anything aloud. He's not entirely clear on where exactly 'there' is... Kar's reaction to his horn just being brushed against has made him a little confused about if those are now included in all that 'there' entails. Confused and really goddamn fuckin turned on. He thought he'd have an angry Kar on his hands after touching his horn like that, which is why he pulled away all alarmed, not one encouraging him to do more. _Fuck_ does he want to make Kar writhe like that again. Maybe he could get away with brushing his horn on accident one more time... though it'd really be on purpose. His bulge is saying 'yes, fuckin do that, it makes both of you feel so good', but there's a nervous part of his bloodpusher telling him he better lay off before he oversteps his bounds. And touching Karkat's horns brings him dangerously close to doing so, he thinks: bros aren't supposed to make each other desperate for a pail; that's something matesprits and kismesises do. Eridan feels it deep inside how much he wants Kar for his matesprit, but that still doesn't mean it's okay to do that to him. Lust and nerves and the _fingers_ Karkat has snuck down the back of his pants are all making it really hard for Eridan to think. But. It has to be both ways or...

Fuck. Fuckin fuck it. It's an effort not to give in and thread his fingers back up into Karkat's hair toward his horn, but Eridan doesn't. Kar said he could keep touching. Just not 'there'. Now that means anywhere that really drives Kar crazy with passion, Eridan has hazily decided. He'll touch safe places. Fuckin _all_ of them.

Still tenderly, passionately kissing Karkat, Eridan moves the arm he'd been pillowing his own head on so that he can still touch his hair a bit. It's awkward, but Eridan wants as much contact as Karkat will allow him. Then the hand he'd pulled away after having brushed it accidentally against Karkat's horn falls finally to his neck, fingers scratching gently in the soft hairs at the nape of Kar's neck before he smoothes his hand down over the taut muscles of his shoulder and upper back. Mmm, Eridan groans into Karkat's mouth at the feel of them moving beneath his hand, muscles strong enough to pin him if Kar wanted to. He gives Karkat's shoulder a squeeze, kneading a bit and savoring the feel before letting his hand slide over the small of his back. That's nice too, but it isn't where he wants to touch most. Eridan's mind is so hazy he hardly gives it a second thought before reaching down to cup Kar's ass. That's not 'there'. Is it? And over clothes; that can't be 'there'?

Eridan arches his back, inviting Karkat to slide his fingers further beneath his tight waistband, silently pleading to be touched more too.

 

You're. Trying. God these douchebag pants of Eridan's are so fucking tight, it's hard to do when you're trying to avoid clawing the fuck out of him at the same time. Also, various tallness factors are kicking in, because while Eridan is easily able to grope at your ass... and nnnggh that feels _amazing_... you already are nearly at the limit of how far you can reach, and so long as you two remain face to face and making out in an epic and gloriously sloppy manner, it's not gonna get much better than that. "Nnnggh..." you sort of frustratedly groan in your heightenedly turned on state, since you don't want to stop kissing Eridan's kissable searching, desiring mouth, and you don't want him to stop kissing you either, in that sweet and adoring way that makes you feel so... 

No, not fucking flushed. No! That's just preposterous and you become flustered and clearly not flushed immediately.

Somehow you manage to get your head turned enough to kiss the side of his mouth, so you can pant some words at him while still breathlessly kissing. "Gonna. Try. Zipper." God you know this sounds obscene and you can't be fucked to care. "Shitty. Tight. Pants." You debate purchasing Eridan some comfy trousers but future, past, and current you all are basically howling in laughter at your moronic self since wow he would look sooo retarded in those besides like hell Eridan would wear anything _but_ skin-tight sex pants all the damn night and day, be serious. You reach down to the front of his pants, with a super shaky, unfocused grasp, and fumble for the button and then the zipper, and you can't help but hook your index finger in after just to... smooth things out, and you get a flash bump against his squirming bulge beneath soaked cotton briefs before you hastily pull out and go for the back of the pants, as was the plan all along. 

And now, although this pains you to do so, it is time to say goodbye to Eridan's mouth with your lips. You give him a last long lingering goodbye-sweet-mouth kiss, staring into his aggressively turned on face as you do so, and it's seriously disturbing how... fucking _beautiful_ Eridan looks to you, right now. Shit. Shit. No, good bye Eridan's stupid sexy face!!!!

Now you say hello to his neck instead, sliding down to kiss there and in such a way that _now_ you have full groping access to the entire extent of Eridan's hipster ass. Of course, you begin groping immediately, squeezing and rubbing over and under the band of his skinny briefs, trying to avoid touching the cleft between his asscheeks for now. "This... okay?" You say between some sucking kisses, sort of mindlessly (but urgently, this is important!) checking in.

 

" _Yeah_ , Kar," Eridan pants, his breath ruffling Karkat's hair. "Keep... keep doin that."

It feels so fuckin good. All of it. He was kind of disappointed not to be kissing Kar anymore, but pretty rapidly that's turned into wanting more of this compromise--it took him a dazed moment to realize his ass wouldn't be getting any of this upright amazing groping if Kar hadn't shifted down to reach it better.

And the way Kar's sucking at his neck... fuckin _god_ it's nice. Eridan bends his neck to give Karkat more access to his skin there, maybe hoping just a little that Kar will keep kissing and sucking long enough to leave him a mark. Something to remind him later, when he's thinking this was all somehow a really good, really torturous, really fuckin _sexy_ dream, that it really happened. It's real. Happening. Kar's lips on his neck, his hand down Eridan's pants rubbing and squeezing his ass... firm honest factual evvidence that this is... this is... nnghh _fuck_.

This is so not even a little bit fair. Karkat is all up in his undone pants, touching _skin_ if not _there_ (ohh, but that happened too, even if it was just for an altogether unfair and unbelievably incredible second, and even if it was through his fuckin drenched underwear), and Eridan's only got a good handful of completely clothed ass. Which is nice. Really damn nice. But he wants more.

So he gives Karkat's ass a good squeeze and then trails his hand up, pulling and pushing up Karkat's shirt until he can get his fingers on some searing hot skin. He's about to just go for it, get his hand into the back of Karkat's pants to touch as much bare ass as he can. But then he hesitates. Permission. He should make sure that's okay. It was fuckin sexy when Kar did it. 

"Can I, Kar? I wwant to," Eridan gasps, pressing his cheek to Karkat's head as his fingers sneak tentatively beneath the waistband of his pants. "Be touchin too. Yeah?"

He presses tender, urgent kisses into Karkat's hair, waiting for an answer. Kar's horns are right there, too... maybe if he's really careful. Gentle. He can... just. Give one a kiss. Eridan does it, only once, his lips just giving the barest soft kisses to one sweet nubby little horn.

 

"Be my fucking guest," you just about spit out, in a way that you know sounds angry, vicious but it's kind of unavoidable when you're _this_ turned on. "Come on, hurry up," you add, similarly angrily sounding. 

A sort of hazy and detached part of your thinkpan sort of muses that there's some kind of contradiction in those two statements, but like fuck you're going to puzzle out what it is. 

And Eridan had better not be hoping that you didn't notice that tiny little kiss to your nubby fucking horn, because you did and shit that sent shivers everywhere throughout your body. The tip of the horn isn't so sensitive as the base, and so as an actual sensation it was quite minimal, but just the fact that he up and did it is what has you in a very enjoyable shiver. You'll get him back. You will totally get him back. This is guaranteed.

He feels and tastes so good, though. Right now you’re focusing on that, and so after your angry-sounding words you melt back into him, returning to the teasing, prolonged sucks and tiny bites to his neck, continuing on with the urgent backside groping, getting closer and closer to forbidden territories with your fingers. This is way more than you should be doing, and a sort of terrible flash of hot guilt takes you with a squeeze to the bloodpusher, but you’re so breathlessly turned on it feels like a serious quandary, since at this exact moment it feels like you’ve forgotten how to stop. 

He’s so tall, and his body and face are so beauti-- douchily sexy. Your body everywhere begs to be made naked, stripped, and then to be pressed against similarly naked, similarly stripped smooth, violet-tinged skin. But you can’t. You mustn’t. Even though Terezi wouldn’t mind. Because… it’s not her feelings, precisely, that matter at the moment. It’s his. You’ve always tried to look out for his feelings. And this is way beyond probably where you should have stopped. 

You need to make it up to him. You do. And there’s really only one fair way. “Eridan, I… god, I like you so much.” Maybe too much. You’ll need to evaluate this later. Mysteries. “I want… need… to see you more. To see... more... more of you."

There. That's fair. And... you close your eyes, continue your taking kisses... and it's totally true, too.

 

The moment Karkat sort of snarls at him to hurry up and do it, Eridan urgently shoves his hand down the back of his pants. Probably a little too fast and too rough, but he wants to make Kar happy quick as a fuckin flyin fish. And yeah, that feels good, having his whole hand full of Karkat's glorificently pert ass. Even just that sensation is making his bulge writhe more insistently in the now much less restrictive confines of his pants. Okay, that and Kar's kisses and nips and his wandering hand...

Karkat's next words take the breath right out of Eridan. He needs a moment to really take that in and absorb it in his lust-addled thinkpan. Kar likes him. Wants to see... more. Does he mean more visiting? Or more skin? Oh god, either way, that's exhilaratin.

But at the same time, Karkat's words are making him think about what they're doing. He loves Kar, wants him so bad, but... this is more heading way into what he wants to do with a matesprit territory. And Kar just said he likes him so much, _his_ words, but that's not quite the same thing as being flushed. Even if it is making Eridan's insides do queasy flips like he's ascending at fuckin speed... or dropping, but like with the promise of being caught. It's almost what he wants to hear. Almost. But.

Eridan squeezes his eyes shut and swallows, his hand stilling. 

Fuckin hell. 

"Me too." Eridan kisses Karkat's head again. "I really like you, Kar. An I wwant more a you. An... you can havve more a me, you can fuckin havve all a me. But. Shit."

He lets out a trembling breath and swallows again. He wants to give everything to Karkat, but, well, only if he can have Kar too. Maybe that's greedy. It's how he feels, though, and that's not going to change any time soon. Shit, this is the hardest thing Eridan's done in a really long time, maybe even ever. He's finally got a part of what he's been craving all these years, all this affection and physical attraction, but it's started tasting sort of bittersweet since it's not the whole of the equation. There's a crucial part missing, the important quadrant part, and the whole thing's not going to come out right without it. Simple science.

"Can wwe, uh, maybe take it back a feww notches? I'll showw you more if you wwant to see more a me noww, but." Fuck. Fuck, he's shaking a bit, all these deliriatin emotions making a mess of him. It's upright embarrassing, after getting this far not even considering how it was all making him feel aside from really fuckin good. Eridan kind of mumbles the next bit, really nervous all of a sudden. "I don't knoww about you but I feel like I might be needin a pail soon and... I kinda wwas hopin my, ah, first time wwould be wwith a matesprit. I mean. In a quadrant an all. Not that I don't wwant to, wwith you, 'cause I really fuckin do, Kar! But. Shit. I'm--I'm not as loose an easy as my reputation wwould havve me out to be. And I'm not meanin to imply you thought I wwas either, I just mean. I just. Can wwe stop?"

Fuck. All hail the prince of royally fuckin things up.

Slowly, reluctantly, Eridan pulls his hand out of Karkat's pants and rests it softly on the small of his back. Oh god. Kar will understand, right? He's an understanding kind of guy. And he likes Eridan. Probably the only troll who does...

 

Oh god, that hurts. Oh god, that really fucking hurts. You pull your hand out of Eridan's pants slowly, shakily, feeling as guilty as wriggler who got caught out of his recuperacoon in the middle of the day, sneaking some tasty grub candy that he wasn't supposed to have. There is a part of you that wants to wrench away from Eridan altogether, maybe scramble halfway across the room in apologetic horror and self-recriminations, and in any other case that probably is exactly what you would do, but you tamp down on that near-reflex harder than you've tamped down on any other near-reflex in your entire life. Not with Eridan. You can't with Eridan. 

Eridan is still touching you, carefully, and so you return the gesture, putting your hand in the exact same place on the small of _his_ back, and he is still keeping his mouth near the top of your head, pressing his lips tight into your hair, so you don't take your lips off his neck, you just stop smooching. 

"I'm sorry," you say in a very low, very husky, and very wet-sounding voice. "Yeah." Too wet; you have to clear your throat, not just once, but a few times. "Yeah, let's... slow down."

And by slow down, you fucking mean stop altogether, because shit you need to think over some stuff now and you are not going to do that while anywhere in his vicinity. But you are not going to tell Eridan that, instead you're just going to wind things down. Very fucking carefully.

You can feel the way Eridan's whole body is shaking, and it seriously fucking hurts because _you_ did this. You.

What you said wasn't supposed to make him feel bad. In fact it was supposed to make him feel good; wanted. Needed. You missed your friend... who is actually your fucking best friend, for the moment anyway. You know how it's basically become a joke amongst all of your friends that you've considered all of them to be your best friend at various points in time, but it's how you function and so fuck it. Best friend, Eridan, now. And your _fucking best friend_ Eridan just said something so horribly wrong that you are not even sure how to process it properly, because he said that even though he wanted to stop, he'd let you go further if you wanted. That he would fucking give you all of himself, even though he wanted to stop. That... is so not right. 

You can feel your eyes become wet and your lower lip starts to tremble from held-back tears, but you don't pull away from him. You let him feel that against his skin.

"I... yeah, you're fucking right, Eridan." Your voice still sounds wet, fucking hell, and worse there is the sound of a swallowed sob in there somewhere, and so you valiantly pause and wait and even though you are still freaking turned on and want more, so much more, he really is right, his first time should be with an actual matesprit, and not like this. You're going to postpone thinking about how he pretty much implied how he wants his matesprit to be you, however. "I never thought you were loose or whatever, though," you say after you can get your voice in better order, and you sort of gently rub your fingertips against his back, in what you hope is purely comforting and not a turn-on whatsoever. "What the hell." 

No, you can't just say 'what the hell' and leave it at that. What the hell. You become cross with yourself, tightly infuriated even. You're going to say this the right way even if it fucking kills you. "I mean, I don't think anyone thinks that, but even if they do, I never thought that." Your voice lowers, becomes more emphatic. "Never."

 

 _Never_. That's no small thing. Eridan wouldn't have blamed Karkat if he had; years of indiscriminately hitting on anyone and everyone left him wide open to that sort of assumption. That kind of reputation came with the whole pathetically desperate territory, at least that's what Eridan had thought. But that isn't what Kar thought. And Kar even thinks no one else did either... That piece of information is kind of painful to have. What if it's just Eridan who hasn't been giving _himself_ the benefit of the doubt all this time?

Eridan lets out something a little too wet and shaky to be a just a sigh, though that's what it would have been if he hadn't started getting a little choked up again. What a fuckin mess. Choked up, turned on, nervous, relieved, vulnerable, embarrassed... he's got so many feelings roiling in him it's hard to even name them all. 

Grateful, that's another. Most important right now. Everything Karkat just said, and the way he's just rubbing Eridan's back so comfortingly now... he's treating Eridan with nothing but respect. Respect and understanding and upright compassion. "Thank you, Kar."

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and manages to relax enough to at least stop the trembling. Kar's crying. That's not how he wants to end this, with both their bloodpushers aching so much. Gently, he moves his hand up to cradle the back of Karkat's head and scritches his claws in the soft hair behind one auricular shell. "Thank you for evverythin."

 

"You're welcome," you answer, swallowing a sniffle. That is seriously a dumb and stupidly meaningless answer, particularly because what the fuck is he even thanking you for anyway, but whatever the answer kind of rolls off your tongue and you decide that it's fine. You feel the trembling in Eridan's body eventually become still, and with a little additional pressure of your mouth to his neck, you can effectively end the trembling of your lip, too.

It's really hard to stay still. The warm proximity of Eridan's body, the comforting way he is playing with the hair behind your cartilaginous nub, the smell of his arousal which is sort of wafting up to you now... your body is not used to being denied when you're this turned on, since usually when you're this turned on it's in the context of tumbling around with Terezi, and she's always as eager and hungry for it as you are, plus there are no complications holding either of you back, so things usually just proceed to their natural, extremely satisfying end without any sort of fuss or delay. You suppose you could go grab a pail and finish yourself off solo, provided you could bring yourself to ask Eridan where he keeps his, and a part of you is so, so tempted.

But that would be very shitty of you, so you don't. Instead you just start pressing soft, soft kisses into the violet-hued grey skin of his neck again. "So, ah... we should probably," you begin, reluctantly, and even more reluctantly you pull back after a dozen or more of those little kisses, pulling away from his touch on the back of your head, sitting up and running a hand through your hair now, making a kind of grouchy displeased face. "... probably..."

You look down at Eridan. He really is all mussed up, his hair completely wrong, his clothes wrapping around him in that weird way that happens when you've been squirming too much, little pinkish and crusty stains here and there as well as wrinkles in the quality bullshit he is wearing, his zipper as undone by you still all wantonly open, bulge visible as a slowly thrashing thick bump under the bit of his briefs, which you are not at all surprised to see are a deep, irredeemably rich purple color. He has craned his neck to look up at you, many different emotions visible in his face. "Kinda early for it, but... I should probably go to your guest room, I guess," you say, finally. "For the night." 

You say this, but you don't move, and when it looks like he wants to sit up too, you gently press down on his shoulder to keep him in place. "It's okay. Stay put." And you still don't move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS -- Sorry this chapter took a while to get edited! That was my fault this time! ^.^; (Ten here!) Stress and feeling under the weather delayed me... hopefully next chapter will not take as long to edit! THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE!!! And thank Heron for being understanding and a complete and utter dear! <3 <3 <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never doubt the ability of Our Writers to wring every last single drop of Romantical Possibility from Every Fucking Mundane Activity Imaginable. This time, it's breakfast! 
> 
> But then, in a shocking plot twist near the end of the chapter, they get on a boat??!!! OH THE TROLLMANITY.

Fine with Eridan. He stays where he is, still lying on his side on the floor and staring up at Karkat. The more he stares, the more he wishes he could make himself be okay with going ahead because Kar looks so fuckin grumpy and so turned on still, his skin, especially his cheeks, all stained dusky bright reddish under the grey, and hair all going every which way even more than usual. He's beautiful. Eridan's eyes drift to the bulge in Kar's pants, the sight of movement making his own bulge give a flicking twitch. It is so fuckin hard denying him. Them both. Eridan might not ever get a chance like this again, to go all the way with Kar (or anyone for that matter; he can be honest with himself at least). But he's not going to take back what he said; just the thought of that is making him queasy. If he could just ask Kar outright to be his matesprit... no. No. That makes his bloodpusher hammer painfully in his chest and makes him feel even sicker. If Kar says no, and there's a scientifical ninety-five percent chance he will, Eridan plain won't be able to handle it. Not right now. That five percent chance Kar might say yes is all that fuckin hope's fault; there'd be zero percent if that hope hadn't grown so damn much with Kar around. Eridan has to swallow down the stupid choking lump of it trying to bubble out of him with a ridiculous ill-timed awkward heartfelt confession. He can tell Kar later. Preferably when he's far away so if Karkat has to reject him Eridan can fuckin fall apart in peace. 

That's later though. Right now he doesn't want Kar to leave, not really.

Eridan reaches out and just barely brushes his knuckles against Karkat's knee, watching his face. "You could stay in here if you wwant to. Sleep in my recuperacoon." He licks his lips anxiously. That probably sounded like he meant for Kar to sleep with him, which, yeah, he wouldn't mind doing just to get to cuddle up with Kar. Really he only meant to offer up his sleeping place. He lets his hand drop. "I'll sleep in the pile I mean, 'cause you don't like them, I knoww."

Is that being too clingy? Fef warned him about that, and he doesn't want to push Kar away by asking him to stay when he's clearly said he should be going. "Or.... you could go. If that's wwhat you wwant to do."

 

It really wouldn't be too hard to just walk yourself down the hall, and then you could both be in recuperacoons... you were sort of hoping that after you made it over there, you could maybe retrieve your husktop from your stash, take some time to cool down, and then message Gamzee since you really need to discuss a few things with him now. Some very Eridan-related things. Gamzee is pretty much the worst person ever for helping someone sort out quadrant issues, but that wouldn't be what you want him for anyway... he just calms you, gets you to a place where you can think through things less emotionally on your own. 

You are also not at all tired and you don't think you'll easily be able to fall asleep, either, and you're remembering that there are all those stupid Harry Potter books in the guest room and you've never read them despite Eridan's multiple urgings, and you sort of were also... wanting to give at least the first book a shot, now. Just to see if they're as stupid as you predict. To read until you get tired. And also, you were planning on sleeping just in your boxers, which looks like it would be a bit logistically complicated at the moment if you tried to do that here. 

So yeah, okay, for a very brief moment you feel this flash of irritation and frustration, since staying here is inconvenient in some ways and now you won't get to do any of that. Normally these sorts of thoughts would get you frowning even more, your feelings registering on your face quite openly since well, everyone tells you that you're a fucking open book. But with Eridan looking up at you the way he is, all anxious and nervous but also adoring you in that way he has where you feel so fucking adored that you might as well have your face carved onto the side of a fucking mountain to be adored into fucking perpetuity (which would be pretty fucking sweet actually but is neither here nor there), those negative feelings just seem to melt away as fast as they come, too fast to affect your expression in any way. 

It's not like it wouldn't _also_ be pretty nice to stay close to him, either. Just, for... whatever. 

Secretly and silently, you bury your sketchy last minute plans. What is also true is that you didn't want to fucking get up and walk down a cold hallway or whatever, only to then have to go and turn on a light and maybe be in a dusty room with old uncirculated sopor which would have to be turned on and left sitting to circulate for at least 30 minutes before you got in. And Gamzee would probably just distract you with too many questions about the fucking ocean anyway. And what the fuck, the Harry Potter books are probably both shitty _and_ terrible, you are just saving yourself from having to get into an argument tomorrow with Eridan about whatever stupid and guaranteed illogical fucked-up romantical quadrant shit is going on in there.

Your bulge continues to throb with want, and something about that searching, needing expression on Eridan's face gets you to reach down to brush your fingertips against his knuckles, and then moving your hand up to run them lightly up to his face next, over his lips. There is something extremely soothing and fascinating about all this and you are kind of afraid you have some idea why that is. "Okay, that works too," you say at last. You're not used to being this agreeable. But somehow, it feels okay.

 

A smile tugs at Eridan's lips. He gives Karkat's fingers a tiny tender kiss as they brush by, then one more. Okay. Kar's not leaving. He'll be staying close, enough for his presence to be felt but not enough to be problematic. Just a comforting distance, perfect really. Eridan feels more of the tension drain out of him, until even his arousal is more a pulsating warmth instead of an achingly insistent throbbing fire. Sleep's not going to come easy, but that's a given anyway if he'll be sleeping in his pile of shitty wands. He doesn't even care. As far as Eridan is concerned, this is a good end to the day.

For a few moments he simply lies there looking up at Karkat, a small smile on his face still. Slowly it dawns on him that Kar probably isn't going to want to sleep in the clothes he's wearing now. He's probably got some sleeping attire in his trunk in the guest room or something, but since he's not going back there right now Eridan can magnanimously help out.

"Kar," he says, shifting a little so he can get into a more comfortable position to look up at Karkat, his arm tucked more securely under his head. "You can borroww pajamas to sleep in if you wwant. They're in the middle drawwer a the wwardrobe. An the door ovver on the far side a the room there leads to the wwater closet--or ah, the ablution block--so if you wwant to showwer or change in privvate you can. I'll go after you."

Eridan's probably going to need to cool himself down and wash himself off if he intends to get any sleep at all; he won't be able to stand feeling so sticky and damp as he is for the entire rest of the night. No way he expects Kar to suffer through if he's feeling similarly. And that room's close enough too; they'll still be able to hear each other. Still a comforting distance away.

 

You look over towards the door, and the indicated wardrobe, and nod. "Yeah, I'll do all that." You go over to plunder Eridan's pajama collection, not really surprised that everything is perfectly and neatly folded. It's outrageous how he has no proper pajama bottoms: everything is stupid shorts, and not even nice sports shorts with drawstrings... these look fucking tailored. It's tempting to yell at Eridan and tell him to buy some actual guy clothes for a change, but you look over at him and he has kind of rolled over and is still giving you that 'kar youre perfect an adorabler than all the kittens in the wworld AN fef' look and you have no idea what to do with that, other than flush and grumble a little and pull out a pair of deep purple silk shorts which have some gold-thread scrolling design along the bottom. 

The pajama tops are similarly ludicrous, and you think about it a bit for a minute and are all, n o p e, no fucking way. It is a little tempting to pick out something in a color that even you could tell would clash horribly with the shorts, but it looks like Eridan actually has some overarching scheme going on here and to your untrained eye it actually looks like _none_ of the colors would clash, and fine you'll just skip the top altogether. Holding the shorts hooked to your index finger and tossed casually over your shoulder, you walk into the ablution block, strip (leaving all your clothes carelessly piled on the floor), and turn the tap to get the spray going. You set it to punishingly cold.

"SHIIIIT," you yell as you hop in and are basically assaulted with needles made of pure ice, or at least that is what it feels like. "FUCK FUCK FUCK _COLD_ ARGHHHH WAIT ERIDAN I'M FINE THIS IS THE PLAN DON'T COME IN AAAAAAHH COLD COLD SHIIIIT!" This is fucking torture, and you're dancing from foot to foot and hissing sharply between yells, but this is exactly what your fucking bone bulge needs to settle the fuck down... "DAMN DAMN ARGGHH WHERE IS THE SOAP OH HERE JEEEZ GOD FUCKING SHIT FFFFFF" You pour out a fist-sized overflowing mountain of liquid soap, which smells like some ridiculous shit you don't even want to know, and you sort of wipe it all over your body with a moan of pure coldness pain and hatred at life. Yes, this is doing the fucking trick. "OKAY OKAY ALMOST DONE... "

You are a shivering miserable wreck when you finally abscond from the shower just over a minute later, and you grab the nearest towel only realizing at the last second that this is probably Eridan's but who cares. Mission fucking accomplished: no more bone bulge boner. The towel is absurdly fluffy and soft but you take no advantage of that, patting down your body quickly and then leaning forward, drying off your hair nice and fast. Your body is still a bit damp and shivering when you grab for the purple short pajama pants, which you then tug on unceremoniously. They provide no comfort at all. 

"Well, that was a fucking experience and a half," you say as you saunter back into Eridan's respite block, after having dropped the towel onto the floor. Your skin is pricked with gooseflesh, and you feel sort of fucking miserable, but it's still kind of with a sense of triumph and a smirk on your face that you return. That might have been the most gorgeously appointed and luxurious ablution trap in the universe, but you gave no fucks and didn't hardly notice shit and couldn't describe it now even if someone paid you. "Your turn."

 

Holy fuckin shit, it sounded like Karkat was showering in fuckin knives or something. Sure doesn't look like that's what he was doing though... Karkat is whole and perfect as he emerges only wearing a really nice and sexy pair of Eridan's sleeping shorts. It's kind of hard for Eridan to stay shocked and even harder to ask Kar how the hell he managed to get clean in only two fuckin minutes when he's all walking proud and showing off his gorgeously muscled and compact self. All Eridan can do is gape at him as he goes by, completely distracted from trying to choose his own fresh pajamas from the wardrobe.

"Yeah," Eridan says, just grabbing a few items at random from the drawer. There are more interesting things to look at than clothes right now, and that happens so rarely... "Make yourself at home, Kar." 

He's really going to need a cold shower himself, what with the renewed activity in his pants over so much bare Karkat in front of him. "You can, um, adjust the temperature if you're wwantin the recuperacoon wwarmer," Eridan says, noticing the goosebumps all over Karkat's skin. "I'm just gonna... go wwash up noww."

It takes him a moment to actually tear his eyes off of Karkat long enough to do that, though. Fuck, his shorts look good on Kar... that rich purple silk just molds and flows so well on him. Okay, nope, done with the sexy thoughts for one night. Eridan swallows and purposefully strides into the water closet, firmly shutting the door behind him.

"The fuckin hell happened in here?" he mutters as he takes in the state of his precious water closet. It's a fuckin disaster area. There are little puddles of water everywhere, Karkat's clothes are in a heap on the floor, and Eridan's favorite towel is in a damp pile too. The ablution block is as bad as his respite block has become, actually, what with all the wands and papers and wizardly and historical knick-knacks and such strewn about haphazardly in there. Like hurricane Karkat came through and left everything in chaos. Before he does anything else, Eridan hangs his towel back up and folds all Karkat's clothes up, carefully avoiding handling his undershorts too much (fuckin bloody fuck, does that mean he's not even _wwearin_ anything else under those borrowed sleeping shorts?!), then sets them in a stack in a clear space on the sink. He's too distractedly turned on to be properly disgusted or annoyed at Karkat's lack of fastidiousness, just operating on hazy autopilot as he sets things to rights. Eridan's own clothes get folded neatly next to Karkat's as he strips himself down... everything's going to need a wash. Every single thing.

He sets the water to chilly enough to cool him right the fuck down, but not to a painful degree like Kar apparently did. That's not even a little necessary--yeah, cold as daggers will send your bone bulge packin, but it'll also torture you and make sure you're more awake than ever. Eridan sighs as the cool water sluices over him, making him shiver a bit until his body adjusts. For a few minutes he just stands under the spray, eyes closed, relaxing under it. Worked up as he was, it takes a while for his bone bulge to take the hint that it's not getting relief and the chill water isn't going to be stopping any time soon. As soon as he feels like rubbing himself all over isn't going to turn him on further, he soaps up. Lavender soap tonight, to be extra soothing and calming. He'd like to sleep if at all possible, since it's a big day tomorrow and all. He gets to spend more time with Kar. Take him sailing. Curl up with him and watch movies.

There's a smile on Eridan's face as he finishes up, toweling off and slipping into his sleeping clothes. Shiny satin shorts in a blue as dark as the night sky and a pale violet long-sleeved shirt of flowing silk with his sign embroidered in deep purple on the left breast are apparently what he pulled out. That's a satisfying enough combination. He takes a comb to his hair, getting all the tangles out and then letting it hang as artfully as it's possible to get damp hair to go--he can fix it properly tomorrow. Eridan wouldn't dream of letting anyone else see him all unmade, but it's different with Kar. He's comfortable with him. 

He's humming a little as he steps out of the ablution block, ready to go curl up in his wand pile. Well, ready to go move his wand pile closer to where Kar will be sleeping in his recuperacoon, then curl up in it.

 

It is perhaps difficult not to preen, as Eridan pauses in what he's doing over at the wardrobe to openly stare and gape at your sexy toned body as you pass. You enjoy that. It's very different from Terezi, who leers. Terezi's leers are very unintentionally adorable, mostly because she can never quite orient herself to exactly where you are in any given space, and so most of the time it looks more like she's leering at a lamp or at the recuperacoon or one of her scalemates instead of leering directly at you. But it's not actually being seen that makes the difference... just, the emotion behind a leer and a gaping, wide-eyed stare is very different, that's all. 

Once Eridan is off in the ablution block, you find and fiddle with the temperature controls on his recuperacoon. You're about to take a step up to get in, but at the last minute you pause, changing your mind. You'll wait until Eridan is back, first. You rub at your arms to warm them up a bit, and lean back against Eridan's unsurprisingly purple recuperacoon, facing the closed ablution block door. 

Whoa, it sure takes Eridan a fucklong time to even get started, though. You narrow your eyes as it occurs to you after a few minutes that he hasn't even turned on the shower spray yet. Eridan's probably up to some mysterious grooming ritual that only he thinks is necessary. You're not as irritated about this as you might have imagined you'd be, though... you just shake your head in crabby rue and roll your eyes a little, but that's all. You feel a sort of clenching pressure in your chest, too... a warm, pleasant pressure, but it's also a bit painful too... you think about Eridan doing all of these stupid rituals of his every day, even when no one is around, and it's just stubborn of him, and sad.

Before you can let yourself get too emotional thinking about that, you remember that you're going to help Eridan find some place near Gamzee (and not too far from you) to live. At the very least, you can be comforted thinking about him going to visit Gamzee, and getting visits from Gamzee in return (you will have to remind Gamzee of Eridan's existence from time to time but that is a burden you are willing to bear). Gamzee sure as fuck won't give two shits about whether Eridan is well groomed or not, but well... that's not really the point, is it? At least someone will get to see. And sometimes, that someone will be you.

The shower itself ends up taking fucking forever. At some point you start tapping your foot impatiently, since you're trying to be good and not thinking about Eridan's lean, tall body all bare and soaked and dripping under the mid-pressure spray, gills fluttering while wet... shit, nope, you're not thinking about that nonsense fucking at _all_.

Even after you hear the water stop, you gear yourself up for something more of a wait, and you sure as hell get one too... more mysterious rituals in process, obviously. You shake your head some more, but you also feel a slight smile creep over your face... you can't help it though, it's funny okay? Eventually, finally, Eridan emerges.

The smile on your face, small as it was, disappears immediately, since well fuck, Eridan looks really, really, really hot with his hair down like that. Shit. It's all wet and falling over his face and kinda actually sort of manly. You like it. Before you can end up staring in whatever the fuck way you usually end up staring (Terezi, alas, cannot accurately advise you on this), you hold out a hand towards him, casual and hopefully not too much like an imperious asshole. "Kiss before bed," you inform Eridan, totally not blushing at all, but a bit gruffly. This'll count as the last lesson of the night.

 

Oh. That takes Eridan by surprise, but like in the best way possible. He was expecting Karkat to be all cozy in the recuperacoon already, not lounging against it all shirtless and sexy, and certainly not reaching out for Eridan to upright demand a kiss before sleeping. His bloodpusher's doing this sort of fluttery thing in his chest as he smiles and goes to Kar. 

Shifting the wand pile can wait. 

"Okay," Eridan says, sort of awkwardly standing in front of Karkat, unsure exactly what to do next. Kiss, yeah, but... well, he's never actually gotten or given a kiss goodnight before. He's not sure what to expect.

 

You take the half step needed to close the distance, putting both of your hands behind Eridan's neck, interlacing your fingers and feeling the still-damp skin, the wet locks draping over the backs of your fingers, your claw tips just the slightest bit pricking into his skin. You also take a moment just to stare into his very violet eyes. "You have the nicest fucking eyes," you say, in an approving murmur. You pull his face down towards you, and he's staring at you all flustered and happy, and that ache in your chest gets a bit worse. The corner of Eridan's lip twitches, like he wants to smile but is unsure if it's appropriate, or is scared to, so you meet him the rest of the way, angling your lips to press a small kiss right there where he was twitching. 

"But anyway," you say as you pull back. You don't, however, pull away. "Goodnight, you idiot." You smile up at him. 

It's tempting to kiss him more, again. You really want to. Just sweet small kisses on his mouth again and again. However, just remembering what almost happened earlier makes you want to wince, so you struggle to content yourself with just that one little kiss. (For a crazy, insane moment, you almost invite him into the recuperacoon with you... just for snuggling... but that's even worse than more kisses, honestly.)

It's very telling how Eridan doesn't pull away either. He really, really is flushed for you. You wish you could tell more about why. Is it just because you're here? Would it be the same with anyone? 

That thought gives you the worst ache yet, all fluttery and heavy and twisting, like a sustained cramp of your bloodpusher. You'd really like to know. But that's not something you can just ask, for so many different reasons. Shakily, Eridan leans forward a bit more, and it's obvious he's hoping for another kiss without exactly angling for it, and definitely not trying for it himself. You want to give it to him, too. But another kiss from you would turn into a deep one, and that would turn into groping on your part, and then shenanigans... and no. Just no. 

Still, you can't exactly wrench yourself away when he's leaning forward like that... There's only one compromise you can think of. "Your turn?"

 

That's all the encouraging Eridan needs. Tentatively, he rests his hands on Karkat's neck. It's his turn to press the softest and tenderest kiss to Karkat's lips, make him feel as warm and truly adored as Kar's making him feel. Kar thinks he has the nicest eyes. He doesn't even have to work on those, they're just a natural part of him... somehow that makes it even nicer. Eridan can't remember the last time anyone said he had the nicest anything. Even the way Kar calls him an idiot is fuckin endearing and not at all hurtful.

He wants to kiss Karkat more, really show him the depth of his feelings, but he did that already earlier and getting into it again would be a bad idea right now. So instead he gives Kar one last chaste brush of his lips to the corner of his mouth and then pulls back.

"Goodnight, Kar," Eridan says, voice low. That little twitch at the corner of his mouth has turned into a real smile now, if a small one. "You havve the biggest heart outta anyone I knoww. An the nicest smile."

 

You'd much rather he complimented you on how you are the biggest fucking badass he knows, but whatever. So you just shrug, thinking that Eridan's minuscule smile is pretty damn nice too, especially since it is bereft of his usual douchebag nonsense... although it occurs to you that all day, pretty much none of that douchebag nonsense was really on display. Weird. Anyway, maybe you give him a sort of awkward grin in return. And you also sort of shake your head, since you personally disagree with both of his points, but are too much of a gentleman knight of awesomeness (and badassery) to say so openly. 

Anyway. Fiiiiiiiine. No more stalling. You scramble up to the top of the recuperacoon and then dip your feet in. The temperature is perfect, so you go right ahead and slide all the rest of the way in. Eridan keeps the level of sopor higher than you do, probably because he's taller, so instead of just coming up to your mid chest, this comes all the way up to past your shoulders. You suppose you're in for one hell of a sleep. The sopor is a perfect clear radioactive yellow-green, meaning it is in _much_ fresher condition than your own, which you don't care about except to enjoy the novelty. You can already feel the slight numbing tingle all over your body, showing how fucking fresh it is. 

So you turn to the side, putting your hands up on the edge and looking out at Eridan. Wow, he's still just standing there, and you realized he watched you doing all of that settling in with that same adoring smile pasted on his face, probably. God he is so fucking flushed for you. It's so... well, you fucking like it, okay? Is that a crime? You are being as responsible as you can about this shit. Except for what happened just a bit ago, that is. Fuck. But anyway the point is you can't really criticize him for acting all flushstruck, and you don't even want to, and so you just smile back at him instead, and sort of wait for him to discover the awkwardness for himself. It's actually kind of funny, even. It will be... well, hilarious but also vaguely cute... when it dawns on Eridan how blatantly he has been staring. 

And guess what? Check it out, it totally is.

 

Wwoww. Eridan never realized quite how agile Karkat was until seeing him climb up and into that recuperacoon like that, all solid strength. Maybe it's cause he wasn't paying close enough attention before, or maybe it's cause Kar's all exposed except for those fine shorts and he can see every shift of muscle... Kar might not be advertising it everywhere or showing it off a lot, but there's a lot of power contained in that small form. And Eridan is absolutely taken with it. 

He's also pretty fuckin taken with the sight of Kar climbing up into his recuperacoon like that. That's about the most private place in all of Eridan's hive; he wouldn't offer it up to just anybody. But watching Karkat slip down into it is making his whole vascular system expand until he feels like he could be floating, warm and happy. It's an easy thing to imagine climbing in after him, pulling him close and holding him as they both drift off into a sopor-soft sleep. A contented sigh escapes Eridan... he can almost feel it. There'd be no horrorterrors, only good dreams, for both of them...

Eridan's so lost in his fantasy that he doesn't register right away when Karkat finishes getting settled and is staring back at him. He stares back, eyes glazed, affectionate and slightly lopsided smile on his face.

 _Kar really does havve the nicest smile_ , he thinks as he stares openly, _nobody else's evven comes close to comparing. An his eyes are the brightest--oh. Oh fuckin ..._

His cheeks flare dusky violet as he finally realizes he's been caught red fuckin handed in his staring. Red, just the color of Karkat's eyes, and of the feelings addling Eridan's thinkpan.

"Had to... had to make sure you wwere comfortable. Before, you knoww--" Eridan waves a hand vaguely in the direction of his scattered wands, rubbing the back of his neck with the other. "I'm gonna go get my pile fixed up noww."

One last sheepish smile and Eridan turns to do just that. He tries to gather up and move all his shitty wands closer to the recuperacoon (and Karkat) as quickly as possible. It's not as easy to do as it would seem. They make a horribly noisy clatter as he shifts them, stray wands escaping and rolling away every which direction. He has to retrieve each one until he's got all of them in a neatly tall pile, even going so far as to go pick up the ones Karkat boisterously flung around the room earlier. There. Perfect.

"I'm turning off the lights," he says, taking one last look at Karkat in the recuperacoon before flicking the switch.

Carefully, Eridan makes his way through the room back to his pile and kind of burrows into it. Wands cascade down, making little tinkling clinking sounds of wood falling on wood and on the cool, smooth flooring. It ends up being rather messy by the time he's got himself insinuated into the pile, lying on his stomach half buried in wands, head pillowed on his arms. From this angle, he can just see the outline of the recuperacoon in the dark. The smile on Eridan's face widens. Karkat's in there. 

"See you tomorrow, Kar."

 

You don't care that he was staring at you, and also you don't care that you were (and are) staring at him, so you don't feel weird or self-conscious at all for continuing to do so as he goes to arrange his wand pile. You keep peering over the edge of the recuperacoon like some kind of nut creature looking out of its leafy tree hive, with the same level of bald shameless curiosity. Your smile widens, but also maybe softens, when you see that he's repositioning the pile from where you'd originally arranged it so that it now is much closer to you. Like, if you leap out of the recuperacoon in the morning, you might just land on him... it's that close. 

But well, you have never leapt out of a recuperacoon in your entire life. In fact upon waking you are always the most sloth-like grumbling irritable asshole known to trollkind, and you're happy with this fact, proud of it even, and what is a lot more likely to happen is that either Eridan will be the one waking you up, or you'll get up eventually on your own and end up sort of slithering your way out, all sliding down the side like a slug made out of assholery.

It is pretty much impossible to articulate how you feel about Eridan's pajamas. They are so atrociously awful in terms of how wrong they are (shorts and a long sleeved top? All in shiny body-clinging thin girl fabric also in typical Eridan colors? Complete with fucking _monogramming_? Wow.) But somehow the entire combination and objective stupidity gives you warm feelings all over. Also when Eridan is all bending over and moving stuff into place, you get a nice view of his ass and it's really... okay, absolutely... a fucking adorable ass. The kind you want to pat and pinch and trollhandle and rub against; wait oops hold up this is not where you want your thoughts to stray, that is not going to be conducive to sleep at all.

So anyway, when Eridan finally has things arranged to his satisfaction (far more systematically neat than you'd ever bother with), and tells you that he's turning off the light now, you are still looking at him all nut-creature-like, and you nod and say "sure" and finally, finally slip down into the recuperacoon properly, settling in and laying your head down on the reclining cocoon-textured surface in the back . Now the slime comes up almost to your chin. Fortunately the properties of sopor are such that you can't really slip in all the way without waking yourself, and besides you never have, although having it come up this high on you does make you slightly nervous for a second. You swallow. Maybe you should say something. But it's kind of humiliating and points out your shortness and besides the only solution would be... well, to invite Eridan in with you so you could sit in his lap, and no that is absolutely not happening. You'll deal.

The lights go out, and suddenly it is fairly dark. You see quite well in the dark, but of course it takes a while to adjust, so at first it's all black and so you close your eyes and simply listen to Eridan get himself settled into his shitty wands. Just thinking about it makes you smile some more. This sopor also has a nice fresh scent to it, sharp and a bit astringent like witch hazel, but also with some fucking floral scent which you suspect is Eridan-concocted. You can't identify it, but at least it's not rose. You think you'd feel kind of offended if it were.

And then Eridan is softly calling out, "see you tomorrow, Kar," and you can _hear_ the warmth and happiness in his stupid mer-troll voice, and it makes you clench up and feel tight and breathless and prickly all over, and you say "yeah, okay" since well, you're not sentimental and shit, and _of course_ you will see him tomorrow. The tightness settles in your chest and you feel hot and trembling thumps radiating from your bloodpusher, and it feels like you are wanting to prompt yourself to say more, maybe to add something unforgivably sappy and lame like "today was fun" or "can't wait" but well you are Karkat Vantas and you have never said shit like that ever in your entire fucking life, except maybe to Terezi sometimes, and so you just sort of hunker down a tiny bit more and try to force sleep.

This turns out to be tough if not impossible, at least at first and for a long time too. You spend a stupid amount of time straining to hear more movement out of Eridan, and the returns on this are not great, all you get are a few wand tinkles here and there as he shifts, and maybe a sigh or two. You try peeking over the edge again after some time has passed, and you've adjusted enough to see Eridan's form on the floor, fairly well delineated against all those damn white wands, but you can't really see his face hardly at all, and it's a bit weird since you can't tell if his eyes are open either, so you slip back in real fast and your bloodpusher races for a while in weird apprehensiveness, like you got caught in doing something, and of course you start thinking about your main conclusion of the day, which is in regards to how Eridan is so obviously flushing for you.

He can't have been flushing for you yesterday, before you arrived, so it's hard not to think that this all just started today. It's... it's disconcerting and strange and sort of hurts to think about like that, because it really makes you feel like it's not so much you being you that is why this is happening, but just because you happen to be here. But... well. On the other hand, he and you _have_ always had a special kind of inexplicable and non-disease-based bro thing going on, right? There were always ways in which he treated you different, even if it was just in that he felt free to unload a fuckton more of his shitty jokes and terrible issues on you than he would with anyone else. Always.

And the one time in his life when he actually _was_ going around shallowly flushing for almost everyone, he never did for you. You always presumed that was because you were special to him. You cannot now presume that this has changed, really, can you?

So, what gives? What is going on with him? You are confused and being confused makes you cranky and restless. You cycle through the same thoughts over and over again for what feel like minutes turning into an hour, and then maybe two... but eventually you do fall asleep. Whether it's because the sopor's effectiveness is finally kicking in, or because you've just fucking exhausted yourself with too much useless fucking thinking, it would be impossible to say. 

 

It takes Eridan a surprisingly short time to fall asleep in his pile of unbelievably shitty wands, despite the lack of sopor and the presence of little sticks jabbing him in a number of uncomfortable places. This day was the most eventful, most exhausting, upright _best_ day he's had in an unthinkably long time. The last coherent thought in his mind is that Karkat signaled at him that today was his lucky day when he got here... and he was right. So fuckin right. If someone had told him yesterday that by the end of today he'd have his best bro Karkat back, and have made out with him (a _lot_ ), and be feeling hopeful for a future that doesn't involve him ending up alone for the rest of his life, Eridan would have told them to fuck off. They'd have been lyin. 

But it all happened. It's all true...

When he wakes up in the morning, it takes him a bleary few minutes to figure out where he even is, though the wands poking him in the ribs and uncomfortably close to his gills quickly bring it all back to him. Eridan scrambles sorely out of the wand pile, approaching his recuperacoon cautiously. He just... has to make sure. It's real, Karkat's really still here, it wasn't all a fakey figment of his overactive imagination, was it?

He takes a quick peek over the top of the recuperacoon, holding his breath. There's Karkat, sleeping peacefully, so deep in the sopor it's fuckin adorable. Eridan's bloodpusher races a league a minute and he's smiling softly as he stares a moment. Let him sleep. This way, Eridan can take his time getting ready for the day, and what a day it's going to be! 

When Karkat wakes, Eridan's managed to both tidy his respite block up (no more wands or papers or pens or figures lying all about--the shipping grid got smoothed as much as possible and placed on his writing desk for safekeeping) and groom himself (upright impeccably, he might add). The first thing Kar does is to rather grumpily direct Eridan to get his clothes from his trunk, which Eridan goes to do without even a little bit of whining. Not like he's going to let Kar wander around his hive all sopor-slicked, what kind of unrefined barbarian host would that make him? The worst kind, that's what. 

Clothes delivered, Eridan leaves Karkat to get ready in private. "I'm makin us breakfast," he explains bouyantly, "so come dowwn to the nutrition preparin block on the lowwer levvel as soon as you're done, okay, Kar?"

 

You are still pretty bleary (and covered to your chin in slime) when Eridan passes you your clothes to where you are waiting at the entrance of the ablution block, and you take them with a grunt into hands that are dry only because you wiped them off on the wet towel Eridan had used earlier. Eridan sure is fucking chipper, you think to yourself, vaguely resentfully and affronted-like. "Breakfast," you repeat. "Got it." You unceremoniously turn your back to him and set the clothes down on the sink, but then pause and then stick your head back out the door again. Eridan is halfway across the room already, walking like he's floating on fucking air, and you say what you'd forgotten to say when you first woke up and also again just now. "Um, good morning, I guess." 

It's really the best you can do and no one should ever expect more from you on this particular score. Eridan spins around (his cape- of course he is wearing another fucking cape- spins dramatically with him) and gives you a huge grin and waves and basically sparkles (metaphorically although possibly literally depending on whatever product he is using on his hair or whatever) and says good morning back at you, reverently as if it were the best fucking day he'd ever seen or imagined, and wow this whole thing is giving you a headache. You half-assedly wave back and then get to business.

Today you take a reasonably-long shower, and it takes you maybe a whole 10 minutes to do all of your necessary things. You don't dry your hair though, hair is not a thing you believe should ever be 'dried,' and you pull on your clothes lazily and in a state of bemused mindless detachment after contemplating the fact that Eridan had refolded your clothes before handing them to you. You... basically don't even know what to think about that at all. Wow. 

Once ready, you clomp-stomp your way down the stairs and using your steel trap memories from the day before to make your way to the nutrition preparation block, which you notice has been significantly cleaned up since last you saw it. There are no random book piles and everything sort of smells like lemony shit, so okay Eridan has clearly been up and cleaning for hours and hours. It's hard not to roll your eyes. It's hard and no one fucking understands how hard it is not to roll your eyes. But you don't and instead you sort of wanly find your way to the table and drop your head down on it, face-first. 

"I am ready for food and whatever," you mumble at the table. You don't actually feel very hungry yet, but that will change soon enough, and you take a moment to vaguely remember that you agreed to go out on the boat today and out of the corner of your eye you see sunlight sparkling through the window. What the fuck time is it? Gotta be early afternoon, at the _latest_. You suspect this means that ocean site-seeing is still a go. The thought briefly crosses your mind that you need that stuff that humans call "sunscreen" but which you call "gross anti-flayed skin girly smelling sun bullshit," and for a second you hold out hope that this means deferred site-seeing and glorious sloth-like movie watching instead, but you just _know_ Eridan probably has that shit on tap somewhere, and therefore there is no escape from this. Your thoughts are dark and glum. "Hit me with your worst," you say with a dark moan, to reflect your dark mood. 

You are really fucking incredibly dark. Pretty much totally grimdark, actually. Eridan had better take note.

 

"This ain't my wworst. I'll havve you knoww I put a fuckin lot of effort into makin it my best." Eridan beams, slightly disappointed that Karkat isn't even looking at him, head all down on the table like that. It's not often he goes to so much trouble to cook at breakfast; he's doing all this specially for Karkat. Truly just for him. As he cleaned and cooked and got everything ready this morning Eridan had a lot of time to think about it, and he kept coming back to the thought that if it was anyone else visiting, much as he'd still be excited, he couldn't see himself being as into making every last detail as perfect as possible like he is for Kar. He is that fuckin flushed. Not that he's going to come out and tell Karkat that's what's up... this dark and stormy attitude of Kar's is a little unsettling. 

It's sending a little cold ripple of doubt through Eridan. What if Kar's regretting saying he'd stay another day? Now he's had time to think about last night, maybe he's thinking he made a mistake but doesn't know how to say it without hurting Eridan? What if he's just suffering through all polite and grumpy? No, nope, not thinkin about that. Shove that down til it sinks like a piece of lead in his belly. All Eridan has to do is wake Kar up more and get some good food in him and he'll be enjoying the day in no time. No fuckin time.

He finishes portioning out a nice, full nutrition platter for Karkat and proudly carries it to the table. It's a goddamn culinary masterpiece a breakfast foods, using all he had available around his hive. Eggs fresh from the nest; they're gull eggs, yeah, but still good. At least, Eridan thinks so. Fried kippers to go with are a special treat. Pickled vegetables garnish the side of the plate. (It's pretty hard to keep fresh vegetables way out here, unless it's seaweed Eridan can harvest himself.) There's also toast and little pots of grubsauce, honey, and jellied sardines. And to finish, Eridan sliced up an orange, one of his last. 

Karkat's still got his head down where the food should go, so Eridan sets it right at his elbow. He hesitates a moment, then also sets a little box down next to the plate of actually nutritious food. It's something he saw in Kar's trunk along with his clothes... some fang-rotting sugar-filled cereal. Maybe that's all Kar wanted to eat for breakfast. Eridan didn't ask, but seeing how cranky Kar is he's willing to make a concession and provide that too just in case. Whatever will make him happy...

"All a this is fuckin tasty, but next time you vvisit let me knoww ahead a time and I can havve more stuff you like on hand," Eridan says, standing next to Karkat sort of awkwardly, just waiting for him to look up. Tentatively, he reaches out, hand hovering over Kar's head. He's dying to run his hands through the enticingly damp strands, fix it so it'll lie nicely when it's dry, but--is that okay? Touching him was okay last night, was fuckin amazingly good in fact, but do the same rules apply now? 

Eridan settles on only touching a little bit, smoothing a few stray curling locks of Karkat's hair down before pulling away. "You sleep okay?" he asks softly. Maybe that's what's wrong, maybe his recuperacoon wasn't to Kar's liking. "You can rest on the boat; I'll do all the wwork. Promise it'll be a fuckin blast, Kar, an all you havve to do is wwatch as I givve you the grand tour."

 

Fuck, that food smells fucking delicious. Your mouth sort of starts watering, and then for a second Eridan is gently touching your hair, and that feels great. You decide to take a stab at saying some words.

"I was embrovelled- er, mm, enbloviated... er. No. Wait, what was it...? Oh, yeah, _embroiled_ in thought," you say in a low and halfway slurred sleepy voice, distractedly answering the only direct question you managed to pick out of that jumble of words about food and boating and tours. "Which is what I was." You yawn. Your yawn goes on for some time. You think there was more to what Eridan said but it's escaping you now. That's okay, though, you have other important information to impart. "... plus I was a nut creature or something, dreaming. I don't all the way remember..." 

Yep that was completely comprehensible and coherent. You nod to yourself, proud of your beautiful command of the language. But then you notice that something is missing. Slowly, you turn your head to face Eridan, cheek remaining on the table. There is a minor mountain of steaming delicious-smelling food waiting for you, and you part your lips yearning to have that food take wing and fly its way into your mouth, obedient to your hungry desire for nutrients, but the food spurns your mental commands. Stupid food. Whatever, that was not what was missing anyway. 

Your gaze flickers upwards to Eridan, who is hovering over you all worried and shit for some damn reason. 

"Why did you stop?" You feel pretty cross about this, now that you remember what was missing. "Come, get your chair and sit next to me. Do the hair thing again, or some more." One of those works, right? "And tell me about this food that is refusing to come into my mouth. Tell the stupid food to watch out, I'm gathering my strength, I'm coming for it, and fucking none of it is being spared, so help me fucking god." 

Hell yeah. You love how awesome you are. Even when only half awake. But that brief upbeat mood does not last, and you frown and sort of growl at the impudent disobedient food, taunting you with its deliciousness. Also your hair is remaining scandalously un-touched. You close your eyes again, full of bitterness. "Come on, Eridan, help a guy out." You sort of helpfully illustrate what needs to happen, using the very last dregs of your strength to clumsily pet your head with one hand.

 

God, there is nothin cuter than Kar, even all half asleep and testy, that's what Eridan thinks. _Embrovveled_ and _enblovviated_ ; who's making up words now? Not Eridan, for once, and he'd tease the fuck out of Karkat for it if he didn't think it'd just make him even more irritable. Later, maybe. The nut-beast thing calls up an image in Eridan's mind of Kar with his cheeks all puffed out and somehow chittering angrily through the nuts he's got stored there, puffy tail jittering and lashing about. Fuckin adorable. Can't suppress the smile spreading across his face now.

And it just gets wider and also softer somehow as Karkat does everything short of grabbing hold of Eridan's hand to have him pet his hair some more, asking, demanding, encouraging him to get real close and touch him. It stokes up the warmth in Eridan's heart, his bloodpusher swelling with it. Rules are the same, which is to say some physical affection is good and welcome. Maybe he can soothe the crankiness out of Kar.

"Okay, Kar, I'm helpin, just givve me a sec." He hasn't gotten his own plate to the table yet, and he ought to eat something too at least. Drinks, too, he hasn't brought out. It takes him just a few moments to go and get it all, his own food and two steaming mugs of hot coffee, setting it up close to Karkat's full nutrition platter. After all, he's not denying Kar the proximity he requested and all. 

Eridan scoots his chair right up next to Karkat so he can wrap an arm over his shoulders and gently _embroil_ his fingers into Kar's damp hair. He strokes little swirls into it, making artful curls around the auricular cartilage. That is fuckin cute. The way it relaxes Karkat makes whatever lingering tension relax right out of Eridan too. "Better?" he asks. 

Before he gets an answer, Eridan picks up a forkful of eggs from Karkat's plate. "Wwant me to help you demolish some a this food too? It's fuckin shivverin at the sight a you, look."

He wobbles the fork a little, the scrambled eggs jiggling temptingly. "Eggs wwaitin to be wrecked."

 

You are just way too good and awesome to answer Eridan's adoring (but probably secretly snide) "better?" and you are also too awesome and fucking hardcore to give the slightest bit of notice to the cutesy way Eridan is mocking your war against food. Shit is fucking serious. Respect fucking please. You stir a bit, the comforting touch of Eridan's skillful fingers somehow nabbing all your tense spots and making you shamelessly melt off into fucking snotty-runny nasal goo (metaphorical) as well as turning you into a chill laid-back nut creature (literal?), and so you pretty much obediently lift your head up just enough to be able to open your mouth fully. Eggs get fucking wrecked.

"More, and where are we going again?" you say while your mouth is still half stuffed with eggs. Eridan kind of patiently says some shit about sailing and the ocean and you nod impatiently because you knew that but whatever, it's still important info, so you don't ream him for his moronical idiocy and instead swallow the delicious eggs and bump your head against his hand, to remind him that he needs to keep that up while serving you your important nutrients. "Something different, please," you add. 

There is the sound of some scraping and utensils clanking and then there is a bite of toast being held to your lips. You finally sit up like a civilized being, but still kind of hunched over. As a point of pride you are keeping your eyes closed because you know as soon as you open them Eridan is going to deem you capable of getting your own fucking food and although sure, you totally are, and you probably were two minutes ago too, this is just... really nice. You feel cozy and cared-for and comfortable and this is sort of interfering with your habitual morning grumpiness but that's okay it's not like you're wedded to being in a state of grumpiness or anything. Eridan puts some grub sauce and honey on the toast it seems, so you gobble that up pretty fast too.

"I learned how to swim," you condescend to inform Eridan along with your next bite, which is of some stupid fish product. You make a small face and ask what it is and Eridan tells you 'kippers' and you almost open your mouth to say 'that isn't even a fucking answer what the fuck are kippers' but then you decide that it's probably just another word for fish and realize it's pointless to demand what is basically a tautology. Maybe things would be different if you could actually ID different fish beyond the basic categories of fish, sharks, and whales. But after your first moment of unease with the alleged kippers you decide that they're okay (possibly because they are fried) and demand more. Eridan complies. 

"So anyway the point is that Feferi gave me goggles and snorkel gear and Jade taught me how to use all of that shit, and also taught me how to swim, and so now I can go wherever. I want to see sea creatures. Are there sea creatures?" And Eridan seems to lean in and plant a kiss on the top of your head and you hope he didn't do that with kipper mouth because eww. You lean in towards him and maybe perhaps bump your head against his shoulder and snuggle against him somewhat. A part of you wants to remind him that you had no ocean near you when you were a wiggler and you barely have any ocean near you now, and whenever you see the ocean these days it is usually in the context of hanging with Gamzee and that translates into bonfires on the beach, and no sea creatures.

And the meal goes on like this for a while as you slowly sort of wake up, and eventually you do finally open your damn eyes and you sniff out the coffee so you go ahead and grab a mug of it with your two hands and then bring that shit right up to your lips, and you tilt your head back and chug, chug, chug that fucking elixir of life down your gullet (this is a new word to you borrowed from the humans). The coffee is bitter and black and you can tell it is probably stupidly fancy but you don't give a damn. You lick your lips when finished, and then hold out the mug to Eridan. "More, and do you have a map? I want to see where you are taking me on a map."

 

More and a map means Eridan has to get up and extricate his hand from Karkat's hair. It also must mean Kar's done with being fed all adorably and quite possibly also rather romantic-like. The chance to show Karkat all the amazing places they're going to explore today has Eridan excited enough not to mind the inconvenience.

He gives Karkat one last affectionate tousle before he gets up, first refilling the coffee and then pulling out one of the books he tidied into a corner shelf off his dining area. It's quite a large book, full of maps of the area. Eridan opens it to the right page, the one showing his tiny pinprick of an island with the reef barely labeled, and spreads it out beside Karkat, careful not to get it in any of the food.

"Wwe're there," Eridan says, pointing proudly at his islet, really. His entire finger covers it up until he moves it again. "Wwe'll be explorin around in my reef an in the cavves in my island."

So what if it's too small to really merit its own close-up map? That's probably why so many sailors have trouble skirting around his reef, it's so fuckin huge. And they think they can just cut through the channel, not knowing that only leads into the slightly deeper lagoon and it's the only inlet _and_ outlet. Then they get stuck, and Eridan has to bail them out. That's all if he can't signal them to keep the fuck off in the first place. The reefs are _his_ and his to protect from every stupid idiot who trawls by. Eridan'll be damned if his precious ecosystem gets damaged or his fish get poached without a fight.

He's fuckin important out here. And so is his island. Fuck the cartographer-carapaces for not realizing that.

Anyway, as long as Kar doesn't bring up the tinyness of his property on the map, Eridan won't even have to launch into all that. He'd rather focus on showing Kar a good time in any case; Kar is always welcome in his waters. And he's bent and intent on wowing him good and proper.

"There's a wwhole metric fuckin ton a sea life in there," Eridan says, grinning at Karkat as he circles his finger around where his reef extends. He's so fuckin excited that Kar knows how to swim and snorkel, even if he's a little jealous he didn't get to be around when the lessons were being given. At least it means he can show Karkat _everything_ without worrying about trying to convince him to at least try dipping in the water a bit. "I'll showw you all my favvorites. Seahorses in the wweedy bits, eels an octopus in the crevvices, an rainbowws a little tropical fish all ovver. Anemones an sea sponges an corals, too. An probably some sea turtles an rays."

Eridan takes a bite of toast with jellied sardine and a forkful of eggs on top. Fuckin yum. "An if wwe see some sharks don't be scared, Kar, I'll chase em off if they get too close." Nothing a seadweller can't handle, especially with a science stick at the ready. "Probably they wwon't evven notice us though."

 

You lean forward and look carefully at the dot that Eridan is lovingly pointing to. This looks a hell of a lot like the map Feferi showed you before you embarked on this trip, and at that time you'd made some stabs at trying to understand the in-depth aspects of sea-faring but it all seemed fucking complicated and in the end Sollux went ahead and installed a high-tech durable GPS system as well as a fool-proof navigation course correction device for your convenience. Feferi also gave you some kind of bracelet/homing device which you are supposed to be wearing at all times but which actually you took off the moment you arrived, which was something you could activate if you fell into the water or capsized her boat or underwent any number of tragic circumstances that Feferi had went into lurid detail about describing. It seems she forgot how much of a big deal you are, but that's okay, you forgave her. 

The main point of wanting to look at the map now is to be assured that Eridan isn't going to take you on some huge overly ambitious trek far away from your current location, and so even though you can't see the island and reef in any details you are already reassured, since it seems that you're going to stay close to Eridan's home. You pick up your coffee and take large hearty gulps, nodding thoughtfully through Eridan's explanation, very proud of yourself for mentioning the swimming and snorkeling since that probably was the deciding factor on making sure you two wouldn't be traversing the entire ocean today or anything.

Around halfway through the explanation, though, your eyes stray from the map over to Eridan, and you can't help but notice how animated and proud and cocky he sounds right now. A strange dreamy sort of feeling settles over you, different from the exhaustion you were very recently mired in, where you feel awake but calm and warm and... and... there is a word for this, and it takes you a moment to find it. Oh yes. Absorbed. Utterly, utterly absorbed. Absorbed pretty much to the brink of distraction, as you find yourself reminiscing about the softness of Eridan's lips and the tenderness of his tongue and the careful worshipping caresses of his fingers and hands over different parts of your body.

So when Eridan finally says his spiel about sharks, you kind of have to shake yourself to snap out of it, and weigh whether or not you should feel offended by his casual but also enthusiastically rigorous declamation of protectiveness. He's going to protect you from the sharks, so therefore you shouldn't be scared? Fuck that. You wouldn't be scared anyway! You would go right at that fucking shark and stab it with a harpoon (you assume that harpoons will be well at the ready on this trip). And yet despite how wrong and idiotically Eridan is underestimating your naval prowess, what he's saying just makes you feel _more_ warm and _more_ worshipped and _more_ deliciously adored. And you think that maybe you'd like to go over and crawl into Eridan's lap and wrap your arms around his neck and give him a really hot kiss because you're basically the king and emperor of really hot kisses and what the hell, Karkat Vantas of Right Now, what the fucking hell.

You feel your cheeks warm up, and it's tragic and mildly disgusting that you're getting yourself worked up already this early in the morning, and you remember just exactly how flushed you decided Eridan is for you, and yet you still have no idea of what that exactly means or what you want to do about it. Instead of saying anything in reply, you just gulp down the rest of your coffee and then stand up, and causally (oh so casually!) walk over and pour yourself another, which you also basically mainline while standing right there. Three cups down. Clearly that should steady your bloodpusher and thinkpan. You pour a fourth, and then come back to sit down. You hope that the blush on your face has gone down.

"So, we're leaving after breakfast then?" you say finally, making sure to sound super unconcerned and suave. It would be really nice if Eridan went back to touching your hair and stuff. That would be right at the top of your most approved activities at this exact moment. "I need sunscreen."

 

That is a fuckin lot of coffee Karkat just drank. Almost the whole rest of the pot, really. Maybe that's normal for him, Eridan supposes; he sure was tired and groggy and angry at the world until about the time he started ingesting all the deluxe high-grade coffee available. He looks like he's doing a lot better now, which has Eridan smiling again. Have lots of coffee on hand, he'll remember that and keep a good stock of it at all times just in case.

"Yeah," Eridan answers, watching as Karkat drinks from his fourth cup of coffee. "Right after breakfast. It's better in daylight, an wwe didn't evven start breakfast til four thirty in the afternoon. The sooner we go, the more sunlight wwe'll havve. An then after wwe can come back to relax an wwatch some movvies; those are better in the dark anywway."

It's a good plan. This way they can do everything they talked about yesterday. And if it gets too late, maybe Kar will even stay another night... it seems likely, but Eridan tries to tell himself not to get his hopes up anyway. He'll make the fuckin best of this day and take the rest as it comes. And just not think about having to say goodbye.

Sunscreen. That is a really damn good idea, actually, since it _is_ so sunny today. Eridan's so glad that storm passed in the night since it won't be interfering with their plans in the least, but it does mean there's a chance they might get burnt if they don't wear any protection. "I've got the best kind, it smells like coconut instead of all like wweird chemicals. I'll go get it an you finish eatin."

It's not like Eridan can stand to eat any more. He hasn't eaten a whole lot as it is, but he's too excited to really be hungry. Enough eggs and kippers and toast got into him that he won't starve, anyway. Sunscreen's up in his respite block with all the rest of his toiletries so Eridan gives Karkat a quick wave sort of indicating him to stay where he is while he runs up and gets it.

He returns brandishing the tube of sunscreen triumphantly, uncapping it before squeezing out a small amount. "Smells like a day at the beach." Eridan wipes the drop of sunscreen onto Karkat's nose. "See?"

That little white streak against the grey of Karkat's nose is so fuckin cute. There's a kind of slightly crooked grin on Eridan's face as he admires it, getting a little lost in looking at Kar for a moment there. There's still a little bit of sunscreen on his fingers, and so he reaches up and smooths it over the cartilaginous part of Kar's ear, careful not to get any in his hair.

 

You have almost enough time to shovel the rest of the food from your plate into your mouth before Eridan returns-- you were starting to eye Eridan's practically untouched plate, too, when he comes right up to you and starts accosting your face with lotion. You wrinkle your nose a little and reflexively look up to glare at him, but Eridan is grinning down at you all flush-struck and it's kind of impossible to execute a proper glare under such circumstances. And then he's all grabbing at your ear, all warm and massaging it like it's his fucking job or something.

"I can't _see_ the smell of the beach, dumbass," you half-heartedly spit-out, aiming for offended majesty and noble grouchiness, but landing on something a lot more mumbly and distracted instead.

Since it is obviously unavoidable, you set down your utensils and turn sideways in your chair to face Eridan fully, tilting up your face and closing your eyes. "But whatever, okay. Continue." If you happen to be a bit warm around the collar and if your continued mumbling has an air of tamed rather than offended majesty, well... that's also unavoidable.

 

"All right, Kar, but it smells good, yeah?" Eridan's not even going to point out that he meant 'see' as in understanding and not as in viewing; Karkat knows that, he's just being difficult. Or trying to be. It's just making him that much fuckin cuter, which is also something Eridan's not going to say. He likes this halfhearted grumbling and easy giving in and isn't about to risk actually pissing Kar off in the middle of it.

Eridan squirts more sunscreen out into his hands and rubs them together, then takes Karkat's face and strokes his thumbs gently beneath his eyes and over his cheekbones, carefully applying the lotion. He's very precise and very thorough as he smooths the sunscreen over every bit of exposed skin he can see, taking a rather indulgently long time about it. God, Kar is gorgeous. 

When he gets to Karkat's neck, Eridan massages the lotion in, fully taking advantage of the opportunity to dig his fingers into the firm muscles where neck and shoulders meet. He touches until there's no more skin to cover, and until he can't conscionably make the excuse that he's just making sure all the sunscreen is absorbed proper like. Really, he'd like to get his hands on more, but that's not really--wait. Wait, they're going in the water, aren't they? That means there's a whole fuckin lot of ground left to cover. Eridan licks his lips. "Kar? Wwant to lift off your shirt? I gotta make sure you're not gonna burn wwhen wwe go swwimmin."

Eridan's cheeks are feeling a bit warm now at the thought of getting to run his hands over all those incredibly hot muscles he got to see last night, but that's okay--there's a bit of a pretty reddish tinge to Kar's cheeks as well.

Maybe his luck will hold out and Karkat won't even question it... if he wants to apply the lotion himself, though, Eridan will understand. And at least he'll get to watch.

 

Reluctantly you nod in answer to Eridan's smug question about how great his stupid lotion smells, as if he somehow invented the smell of coconut. You don't call him on this likely bit of self-congratulatory wankery, since as it happens you are being a very cooperative bro who takes his fucking sunscreen like a man. You'll indulge Eridan in this, you've decided. 

Eridan is very careful and thorough with the application of his coconut-infused radiation-blocking emulsified colloidal solution. You don't feel the slightest scratch of claw tip touching your skin anywhere as his fingers gently and slowly sweep over your face, and it's so relaxing and soothing how he does it too. "Mmmm," you find yourself humming under your breath, and you tilt your chin up higher as well. He follows up by taking your chin in one hand so as to finish massaging the rest of your face with the fingertips of his other. After that he moves on to massaging the lotion onto your neck. It's so distractingly comforting and enjoyable that you blink a little when he stops, and you open your eyes to look up at him when he does.

You feel warm when you notice the violet-tinged blush on Eridan's cheeks as he asks you to take off your shirt. It's exceedingly dumb for him to want to apply lotion on your chest now, since it's not like it couldn't be applied later as well, and you are just going to be putting the shirt back on anyway after he's done. Just... Eridan is so dumb. Such a limitless moron who probably isn't even thinking about that at all, being all caught up in wanting to do the job completely and thoroughly, like he does every fucking thing in his life. Just contemplating how stupidly precise and careful Eridan is about everything these days makes your bloodpusher ache for various reasons, not the least of which because he is staring at you so soulfully and hopefully and like he really wants to do this, wants to do it so much that it probably didn't even occur to him that the sunscreen will just wipe off on the inside of your shirt once its back on. 

God will he feel dumb when you put your shirt back on and it finally, _finally_ occurs to him what a dumb idea this is. But he'll probably just feel even dumber if you point it out to him, so instead you just wordlessly decide to go along, lifting up your shirt (and maybe although you are inclined to deny it, hitching your breath a little when the shirt is halfway over your head and for a moment you can't see whatever expression is on his face as he looks as your chest being uncovered). Does he hold his breath at all too? You sort of hope so. 

Maybe it would be okay to just leave your shirt off. It's likely a lot warmer today than it was yesterday; you remember Feferi saying some nonsense about a cold front or a warm front or anyway basically some kind of weather front passing through, and she herself predicted that today would be much nicer and warmer and "so great for swimming." You can bring the shirt with you just in case it turns out to be colder than you anticipate. That works, right? 

You swallow and look off to the side as you drop your shirt to the floor. "Okay," you say finally, pitching your voice low to hopefully hide how strangled and even more flustered that you find yourself feeling. "It's up to you then to make sure I don't get burned, then. I'm holding you fucking responsible." 

 

Shit. That makes Eridan a tad uneasy, given his admittedly less than stellar track record with responsibility and _not_ fuckin things up. But Karkat's letting him do it, basically putting his trust in Eridan that he won't get burnt. Sure, it's true the sun on this new planet isn't nearly as deathly goddamn vicious as it was on Alternia, but there's still a more than likely chance of getting painfully burnt under it if there's nothing protecting them. 

Eridan nods, eyes wide. No fuckin way he's letting Kar down. He's going to be so upright bloody fuckin careful not to miss a single tiny centimeter of Kar's skin.

And _god_ is he going to enjoy it. 

"Right," Eridan says a bit roughly, mouth suddenly gone dry. He squeezes out a healthy glob of sunblock into his hands, prepared to use half the goddamn bottle if need be to cover Karkat completely. Okay. Where should he even fuckin start? He's got Kar's whole breathtaking torso bare before him, his hands sort of just hovering hesitantly... _oh, fuckin just go for it_.

First... first, he'll do Kar's shoulders. That's a safe place to start, and makes perfect sense anyway since he just finished up doing Kar's neck and all. Eridan sets his hands onto Karkat's shoulders, massaging a bit before he gets distracted by the delicate collarbones and has to meticulously trace them, smoothing sun lotion over them--it'd be a shame if the hollows got burnt too. Obviously from there he has to let his hands wander to Karkat's chest... the blush across Eridan's face is a damn blaze of violet as he watches his own palms cover the toned muscles. Fuck, they feel nice. Eridan bites his lip, crouching a bit as his hands move lower to slick sunscreen onto Kar's abdomen. Firm and defined and god Kar is so hot. Slowly, deliberately, Eridan glides his fingers juuust below the waistline of the front of Karkat's pants. Wouldn't want him burn right at the dividing line there, after all. Just doing that makes Eridan think of last night, and he can't help feeling a stir of want--no, fuck, fuck, fuckin fuck, he has got a job to do. Can't get distracted. 

Next, he runs his hands back up Karkat's sides, standing straight again. His eyes flick briefly to Karkat's face to see if he's doing okay, and he thinks yeah... yeah, he's doing all right. Okay.

"I'm gonna do your back noww," Eridan informs Kar before he squeezes out more sunscreen and steps behind him, careful not to plant a foot in his discarded shirt. He lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, relieved Karkat won't be able to see how much applying fuckin sunblock to him is doing to him. It's a perfectly platonic thing bros would do for one another... it's probably not supposed to be so outright sexy as it is.

Back here, Eridan feels he can do a bit more staring, and he fuckin likes what he sees. He works his fingers into the firm muscle of Karkat's upper back, then reverently lets his fingers trace the planes and curves of his shoulder blades. The small of Kar's back gets a gentle stroking too, and Eridan takes great pleasure in making sure the gentle slope gets worked over well. His fingers slip just beneath Kar's waistband back here too, every little fuckin centimeter covered just as Eridan promised. (Fuck, he got to grope that last night, his hand was fully down those pants, and yeah, that was a bit too far, but that doesn't mean it's not a fine fuckin memory now.)

Eridan has to take a moment to collect himself and calm his shit before he finishes up on Karkat's back. Last he'll focus on covering Kar's arms, and he wants to be facing him again to do that. He takes a deep breath, smoothing his hands down Karkat's back one last time. "God, I could fuckin eat you," he says, mouth watering at the delicious coconut scent Kar is now covered with. The heat pooled low in his belly is saying 'it's not exactly just the coconut' but fuck it. That's not a place he can go right now, and they've got a goddamn incredible tour and reef adventure to get on with anyway. He takes one more breath, then moves.

To get Karkat's arms slicked in sunscreen, Eridan gets a good amount on his hands again and then closes them around Kar's upper arm, gently sliding them down over the nicely toned muscle. Whatever Kar's been doing, probably practicing the everlovin fuck out of his sicklekind wielding, it is doing his arms really fuckin good. Eridan licks his lips as he finishes Karkat's left arm, making sure to get his hand well covered as well before moving on to his right. Once both arms are well sunblocked, Eridan looks up at Karkat. "Done." 

He hasn't let go of Karkat's right hand, though, still gripping it gently between both his own hands and massaging it.

 

He... he... hah, what? 

Did Eridan just literally, honestly say he could fucking _eat_ you?

You basically do not know what to do with yourself right now. You find yourself listing forward, just a little, a cold shivering slap of purely psychological weakness and shuddering surprise rushing over you like wind skipping over a field of tall wild grass. You have to catch yourself, and you do so, very quickly, so that the swaying motion was probably barely detectable (and likely not detectable at all to Eridan's clearly you-wworshippin addled thinkpan). W-wow. What the fuck, Eridan fucking Ampora... what even the fucking fuck was that?! You push back a gasp, reversing and denying it so hard that you end up blowing out air instead, all fucking whooosh and wrapping it the hell up with a tight, weak cough. 

Shit. Lameass turned-on bullshit. That's what all of this is, basically, and you bare your fangs and grit your fucking teeth since no more of that, seriously. No.

Okay, but like check it out: there are things happening here which you know full fucking well that you'd have to be some kind of heroically stoic maniac to abide with your full dignity intact. For instance, the practically matter-of-fact, casually nearly fucking _entitled_ way that Eridan just slips his fingers under the band of your pants, first in front and then in back... it's not like he was tugging hard enough to peek, not even, but there is something just so implicitly and nearly-unconsciously possessive about such a gesture that can't help but leave you wanting to squirm and gasp. Right? Right?! That's just natural physiology and fuck you can't even help it, nor can you help the sort of paradoxically keyed-up state of yearning relaxation he's fucking ensorcelling you into with all his dumb sexy simplemindedly open and unguarded appreciativeness that's like... maddening, Super fucking retardedly maddening.

It couldn't be more fucking obvious. Eridan wants you. He fucking wants you. And... you are not exactly opposed to his state of fucking want.

The one thing, the only thing you can cling to right now is the fact that this is all allowable within the bounds of your matespritship with Terezi. Not just having another matesprit, but... just about any level of fooling around you'd like to do, too. So... is that what this is, then? Casual flirty fooling around? With a bro who, okay, you missed like the fucking dickens, or whatever the fuck bit of atrocious Jake-human nonsense that would apply at this particular moment? She is okay with everything you might want to do, so by definition this is all above-board and honest fair dealing. But... are you? Are _you_ fucking okay with it? Can you be? Is this the behavior of an incurable fucking romantic, or is it just mostly... kind of slutty? 

Ahhh this is just too much and too hard and you don't want to fucking think about it you're supposed to be getting on a fucking sailboat and visiting with sea creatures so that you can have shit to delight Gamzee with, talking about.

So by the time Eridan says "done" and is back in front of you, having licked his lips and then looked back up at you, you are as tense and wound up and as internally agitated as a goddamn fucking spring. You are so frantically turned on and off-kilter emotionally you nearly fucking panicking, not really sure what is next but knowing you simply cannot return the favor right now and demand that Eridan strip his shirt and let you go at his stupid, and stupidly sexy, body. You can tell your cheeks are burning-up red and you feel like probably your eyes are wide and blatantly staring, but you need to be as calm and as chill as you can despite these trying circumstances. And look, Eridan even sort of accidentally helps you out, by retaining custody of your hand, clinging to you on the slightest pretext of finishing you up. 

With your free hand, you fumble to press it over top of one of Eridan's, stopping the massage. You then try to get your breathing in order, and you think you mostly succeed. All along, with the instinctual presence of mind of a hatched romancelord, you've been keeping your gaze locked on his, softening your probably turned-on expression into a turned-on but appreciative smile.

Finally, you lift you hand back from off the top of Eridan's, grabbing Eridan's plate of food and pulling it towards yourself. Glancing away for only a second, you grab a fork (his? yours? who knows), and pile it with fucking kippers, and aim the forkful of fried fishy goodness right towards Eridan's mouth.

"Here, eat," you say, maybe just a _tiny_ bit breathless now, still clinging to him with your other hand. "And... thanks." You try not to sound too much like a flushed virgin out of one of Rose's trashy human romance novels.

 

Nicest fuckin smile ever, that's what Eridan still thinks, especially when it's turned on him. And it's not lost on him that all that lotioning up affected Karkat too, judging by the look on his face. He liked it. Only time and prolonged sun exposure will tell if he managed to do a good enough job with the sunscreen, but at least at this moment it went really fuckin well.

Eridan smiles before parting his lips and taking the bite he's being offered. He's not really hungry now, but like he's going to turn down getting fed by Kar. And the kipper _is_ his favorite part of the whole meal he cooked. It's a big mouthful, effectively stopping Eridan from saying anything in return until he's got it good and chewed up, not to mention it'd be fuckin rude to talk with his mouth full of fish. 

He swallows and then licks his lips. "You're wwelcome, Kar. Wwant to head out? Are you ready for this?" 

Eridan gives Karkat's hand a squeeze, very damn ready himself. The quicker they get out on the water, the better; the distraction of having to sail the boat and the excitement of showing Kar all his favorite places and sharing his world with him would be welcome, before he's tempted to let his flushed feelings entirely get the better of him.

 

After Eridan squeezes your hand, you slowly let go, having taken the pause of watching Eridan chew his food to calm yourself. You raise one eyebrow when Eridan asks if you want to head out, and pointedly glance down at his almost totally untouched plate. "Not going to finish this, then?" you ask, and Eridan just sort of swallows and shakes his head no. Okay, that's permission enough: you grab his plate over and dive in. "Just lemme finish eating and then I need to get my stuff and then yeah lets go," you say, losing all locutionary pauses with a mouth stuffed full of food. There is absolutely no point to waste a breakfast so ridiculously over-prepared. 

Following a minute watching you stuff your face, Eridan gracefully slides back into his chair, and he leans his chin on one hand. This means he continues to watch you, he just gets to do it more comfortably. It's unreal how he gets this "lost in your eyes" look about him, all soft and absorbed and basically completely lacking in self-awareness in how fucking _obvious_ he is being. He used to stare at Feferi this way too, you remember. Back on the asteroid, when you and everyone else thought you all were doomed, and when Eridan was going through his personal roster of consolation prize potential matesprits... he'd sometimes even drop off talking _while in the middle of hitting on someone_ just falling into distractedly staring at Feferi instead. Everyone noticed it. Everyone was annoyed by it. 

You yourself were _deeply_ annoyed by it. It was corrosive to group morale, for one thing. It ended up making Feferi feel uncomfortable and creeped out, and was off-putting to everyone else, and ended up getting Eridan pretty universally shunned. You remember how you tried over and over again to plead with him to stop that shit already. But he never even knew what the fuck you were talking about; he consistently denied it was even happening. 

Of course, Feferi always tried to be tactful about it, pretending it wasn't happening and shit, letting Eridan off easy, and that probably didn't help. You are not tactful. When people stare at you, you stare back, so of course you find yourself doing that now. It's a bit weird though... you'd think you'd be able to meet his gaze levelly here, but no... your flush from earlier just continues, and you sort of tilt your head a little and get a bit unfocused about it, still dutifully stuffing your face. You don't feel flustered or anything, but it's undeniable that you do feel, um... very very warm.

 

This is nice, Eridan thinks, just sitting here watching Kar very thoroughly demolish all the food left on Eridan's own plate. That means he's really enjoying it, right? Of fuckin course it does. And that makes Eridan's bloodpusher swell with a warm rush of pride, being the one who made it for him. He files away all the foods he prepared into his memory so he can make this for Karkat again next time he visits. Maybe he can get Kar's input later on what to make for dinner, since he'll be up and awake and available to consult... all so Eridan can be sure Kar will like it and he can watch him devour it like he is now. It is just so gratifying, making Kar happy.

Once the plate is empty and Karkat's done eating, Eridan tells him he should go and get his stuff while he clears the table and such. He'd fuckin love to be the gentleman here and get it all _for_ Kar, but that'd be a little impossible as he doesn't know exactly what kind of things Kar even wants to be bringing. Snorkel gear, maybe? Did he actually bring it all the way here even though he wasn't even planning on staying too long at first? Eridan tries to tell himself it doesn't mean a whole lot, Karkat possibly even was just going to go snorkel on his own if he'd stayed mad at Eridan, if that's even the kind of 'stuff' he's talking about.

Eridan's stuff is already either on him or prepared and on his boat. All he has to do is clean up breakfast and he's ready. When Karkat comes back downstairs carrying the things he wants to bring, Eridan sees the snorkel gear and goggles and he grins. Kar's not snorkeling without him no matter what his plans might have been before, he's snorkeling _with_ him, and it's going to be a goddamn amazing experience if Eridan has anything to say about it. Eridan raises an eyebrow at the jacket he's got slung over one arm, but doesn't say anything--he's not about to question Kar's motives for going shirtless but bringing a jacket just in case. Also just in case, he grabs Karkat's now neatly folded shirt, just for the sake of being thorough. Who wears a jacket and no shirt, after all? Really, if Eridan had his way he'd choose Kar wearing just those swimming trunks he's holding too, no shirt or jacket in the equation. Or... nothing at all. His face turns ultra-violet at that thought. Better leave that just to his own overactive imagination.

"Right, you got evverythin?" Karkat assures him he does, and that's it then. "Let's get movvin!" Eridan says, feeling a rush of excitement as they head out the door of his lighthouse hive.

He leads the way down the rocky slope toward his dock, where both Karkat's borrowed boat and Eridan's sailboat are moored.

"It's a fuckin gorgeous day for a sail," he says, taking Karkat's things from him and then helping him into the sailboat. The sun sparkles off the gentle ocean waves, just the right amount of wind to get them moving but not too much so as to make the seas rough at all. Eridan couldn't have wished for a better day to do this.

"Hold on wwhile I secure the vvessel an then wwe can be underwway." Eridan grins and gets to work making sure his rigging is all set correctly while Karkat gets comfortable. "Oh, an I'm gonna showw you howw to wwear this properly, just for the sake a caution." He pulls out a little-used life vest out of storage and hands it to Karkat. "Sit tight a sec and I'll be right ovver."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Again, a big delay... RL is just hard you know, and there were holidays! Also, as you can see, this section turned out to be pretty long and that meant a bit more editing than usual. 
> 
> In any case, thanks to everyone for the lovely reviews and I hope this story continues to live up to its promise of being the most schmoopy falling-in-love bee ess ever. We do try!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first rule about The Little Mer-Troll is that you don't talk about The Little Mer-Troll.
> 
> The second rule about The Little Mer-Troll? Is that you DO NOT talk about The Little Mer-Troll.

Ughhh. You're still not sure you're used to all this flagrant daylight. Even with sunscreen on, you wince once the heat of the sun's rays hits you- that's an instinct that's not going away any time soon- and you also lift one hand (with all the stuff still in it) to shield your eyes, because the sunlight is nearly goddamn blinding and the sparkles of light off the water are like stabs to your eyes, and not friendly bro-like Jack Noir stabs either. Once at the boat you drop all your shit unceremoniously into Eridan's hands, and then hop in. He hands you some life jacket, and you roll your eyes: Feferi made you go through some similar lame drill about life jackets yesterday too. 

There's a kind of sheltered hutch where you could sit, as well as some sort of semi-depressed crawlspace, but otherwise the overall arrangement is kind of spare... this boat is a lot less elaborate than you'd imagined, but after a moment of thought you decide it makes sense. Sailing is supposed to be pretty hands-on and shit, it's different from using boats with motors (like what Feferi lent you, for instance). A one-man boat is probably easier to manage if it's smaller and spare like this. Still, it's kind of hilariously non-Eridan like; the only Eridanesque feature you noticed was the super purple color of the hull. Like, _super_ purple. The fucking purplest. You begin to smile, thinking about that, but then the half-smile sort of morphs into a frown when you realize you need something out of your jacket. Sighing in aggravation, you go over to the cubby where Eridan stowed your things, and pull it out.

You paw through the pockets of the jacket, grabbing out the one indispensable item that both Terezi and Dave insisted you bring, on penalty of punishment: sunglasses, as borrowed from Dave. Not _the_ sunglasses, Dave's precious fucking treasured Stiller shades gifted to him by fucking John Egbert, but ones in a similar style. So fucking humiliating. You hate them so much. But the sunlight is kind of too bright for you to be picky, and now you're kind of glad you have them. You put them on, feeling like the biggest douche in history, and so after you put the jacket back where it was, you nab the life jacket and go sit behind the raised up hutch-thing towards the back of Eridan's boat, crossing your arms and feeling annoyed at life while you watch Eridan do his bullshit.

Fortunately, the sense of annoyance fades pretty fast as you kind of get caught up in watching Eridan do things. He's being all ship captain-y and shit, looking very serious as he goes over the various ropes, running his fingers over them and making sure they're in the right places, unwrapping and rewrapping the ropes around various little nubby hook-things (you don't know the nautical terms, and invite yourself to sue yourself if this is a fucking problem). Eridan is all busy with stuff but soon he looks up at you and he flashes you a super happy grin, that turns into puzzlement when he notices the sunglasses. "Dave's," you say. And before Eridan can pout or start looking sad or whatever the fuck reaction he'll have to you having Dave's shades, you say, "Terezi insisted." It's pretty much hilarious how Eridan nakedly relaxes upon hearing that, and then goes back to his stupid work. You find yourself smiling again.

 

Everything's getting in tip-top shape and fixated fuckin order, and it doesn't mean anything that Karkat's wearing Dave's shades because it was all Ter's idea and that means it's not a token of affection or anything on Dave's part. Not like Eridan was about to worry it might be or anything. He's not really hoping he might get to be up in Kar's quadrants, the flushed one to be really precisional, and not worrying about potential fuckin competition from a cool kid or anything. In fact he's pretty well grinning from fin to bloody fin as he finishes up with the vessel securing. The fact Kar's wearing Dave's glasses just means he'll have to buy a pair specially for him so that next time he's got Kar on his ship he'll be the one providing all the sun protection. And it will be a token of affection. Not meaning to compete with Ter's or anything; it's... okay, maybe he hopes (uselessly, nerve-wrackingly) he might at least get to show Kar how much he cares and wants him comfortable and safe.

Speaking of safety, Eridan's about done, so it's time to make sure Karkat knows how to use that life vest just in case the unthinkable happens and he should pitch overboard and for some ridiculous reason Eridan's not able to rescue him right away. He finishes fastening and testing one last rope and then heads back over to where Karkat is sitting at the back of the boat.

"Okay, Kar, howw about you showw me howw you'd put that on?" He points to the life jacket he gave to Karkat earlier. After he sees the way Karkat puts it on, then he can correct him if he's missed the proper way. Much as Eridan would like to just put it on Kar himself, he's pretty sure Kar isn't going to wear it the entire time, and so it's better to be fully satisfied Kar knows what he's doing. Just in case. "Then we can set off."

He smiles at Karkat, actually pretty amused at how he looks in those shades. A lot of Karkat's expression is in his eyes, and so having them covered up makes him look like he's fairly passively taking in everything Eridan's saying. He could be glaring daggers and Eridan wouln't know. It's kind of funny, but at the same time Eridan thinks he's going to really have to pay attention to the subtle details of Kar's expression to tell what the hell he's thinking...

 

"I thought you said you were going to show me?" you say, picking up the life jacket and curling your lip at him in what you hope is a sufficiently arch and kind of douchey manner. You wave it towards him. "Anyway, it's kind of self-explanatory, isn't it?" Actually, it sort of isn't, since you made a few mistakes when Feferi put you through a similar drill, mostly in terms of crossing over the buckles to the wrong spots, but it was pretty obvious and you were totally going to correct them but Feferi didn't give you any chance, coming over and giving you a really silly and scolding lecture that touched on lots of different aspects of water safety that barely had anything whatsoever to do with wearing a life jacket at all, fixing it for you. 

But the point is you know how to do it _now_ , and you sure as hell aren't going to demonstrate this shit again, and Eridan is a moron if he somehow thinks Feferi wouldn't have taught you this shit already. You're totally not doing this as a way to taunt him into coming over and showing you himself. Absolutely, totally not. Besides, he's still forgetting that demonstrating this is going to wipe off some of the sunscreen he himself so lovingly applied (although you've already resigned yourself to re-applying some anyway yourself, since you think a bit wiped off when you were carrying all your stuff to the dock to begin with, and Terezi herself gave you all the sun protection lectures you'll ever want in your entire lifetime). So yes you're kind of being an ass. But for an important reason: you want to see how he'll react to your gross insubordination.

"What do you say, mer-troll?" You add, sounding a bit buoyantly gleeful about getting to sound like such a dick. Time for the piece-de-assholistence: grabbing one of his (kind of adorable) verbal quirks and turning it back on him. "Yeah?"

 

Oh, hell fuckin no, Karkat is _not_ refusing to do as Eridan asked him to out of the fuckin goodness of his seadweller heart that is so full of water safety knowledge it could fuckin burst with it. Eridan stares at him, narrowing his eyes a little. The grin on his face has slipped a bit, but not fallen off completely. Kar's probably just fuckin with him, but like hell he's going to take it lying down.

"Kar, I'm gonna havve to ask you to take those shades off if they keep seepin Davve-sass into you like they seem to be doin." Eridan approaches, turning his full attention Kar-ward as he's now satisfied with the state of his ship. He puts his hands on his hips as he stands before Karkat, glaring but kind of smirking at the same time. He can't even get a proper scowl on, not even a fakey fake one.

"I said I'd showw you, yeah, an I wwill if you really wwant me to. But if I havve to put that on you wwithout gettin to see if you knoww wwhat you're doin then it's stayin on you an not comin off until you're safe on land again." Who's going to win this battle of wills? It'd be a pretty close match, Eridan thinks, though he's not about to give in--even though he'd like to get in close and fasten those straps on to Karkat. This is about Kar's fuckin life here, though.

Speaking of saving lives... the only reason Eridan even knows how to put a life vest on properly is because he's had to show countless carapace people and nakkadiles and dumb-ass salamander "sailors" how NOT to get themselves drowned if they go overboard. Like he'd need to know otherwise--gills kind of negate the need for fuckin life preservers in the water, after all. Eridan sometimes wonders how he ended up spending his days after the afterlife _saving_ countless landdwellers' lives. Not that it's a bad thing. And here he is. Knowing more about keeping landdwellers from drowning than any of them.

"Here," Eridan offers, being oh so fuckin magnanimous (because he really likes Kar best, and is enjoying being a dick right back to him), "I'll make you a compromisation a sorts. I'll showw you howw to put the life vvest on, but then you gotta showw me after. Deal?"

 

Compromisation. Your grin widens in inverse proportion to the degree Eridan's has soured upon your completely needless provocation. You used to hate it so fucking much when Eridan just sort of made up words like that, it would irritate the hell out of you in every single way, but it seems you no longer hate it. At all. Must be because of all the growing you did as a hatched leader since then. "Deal," you say, taking a step closer and then, in seeming obedience, hold your arms out from your sides, to make it easier for him to "teach" you. 

Eridan looks you over suspiciously, and then takes the life vest from you, unbuckling it. Of course you don't remove the sunglasses. You do, however, angle your face downwards so you can look up at his eyes from over the rim of the sunglasses, which in turn will let him see every minute bit of insubordination you plan on challenging him with. Your heart is racing, kind of... because well, you trust him, you know. It kind of shocks you to discover that you _do_ know. Eridan isn't going to take a huge fucking acrobatic leap off a handle or anything just because you're teasing him slightly and are also kind of being a douche. This realization makes you blush a bit but you stand firm, and cocky, looking for all the world like someone who is Up To Something. 

Slowly, with the same care he used to apply sunscreen, Eridan slips the lifejacket on, sliding it over one arm and then bringing it around the back and pulling your other arm through. You don't fight him, of course... that is not the game you are playing... you just stare warmly into his eyes, grinning up a fucking category five storm, and Eridan's frown deepens as he notices you not paying a single bit of attention. He explains about the buckles but you don't look down. And then he goes to buckle the first one but stops halfway when he notices you're still not looking, and finally demands your attention. "Wwhat the hell, Kar? Are you fuckin wwith me for real?" He sounds hurt and well, damn it, you weren't really angling for that. Your grin wavers and then falters. Shit. 

Well, you can't keep going with this if it's going to stop being fun, but that doesn't mean you're gonna let things fall down into stupid emo Eridanland. "Yeah," you confess casually, with a bit of a shameless upbeat shrug, and you paste that smile right back on your face, making sure not to look so douchey about it now, just more a regular-level of friendly teasing. "You are kind ridiculous, do you know that?" To reduce the sting of out-and-out calling him an idiot, you reach up and plant a soft kiss on his lips, and then go to work seriously buckling the damn life jacket. Feferi trained you well; you make zero mistakes. "Do you think Feferi would have even let me borrow her boat if I didn't have to go through this whole drill once already?" Once it's on, you pose proudly, placing your hands on your hips, and you sort of find yourself falling into a warm, absorbed, utterly fond and affectionate smile. "Think about it." 

Idiot mer-trolls, you think. But no... it's really only one idiot mer-troll who is getting to you now. Idiot mer-troll. Yeah, that's better. 

Damn, you sort of want to kiss him again. "Why don't you show me how to take it off instead?" you ask, reaching out with one hand to take it into yours, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand. "Yeah?"

 

Fef... right. Eridan hadn't even thought about that, but now that Karkat mentions it--okay, he was maybe a little bit overboard with the demonstration and insisting on all these safety precautions. He just wanted to make sure Karkat would be safe. And so, yeah, he would have insisted anyway, even if it's true Fef would never let Kar go using her boat unsupervised and all without being sure he could keep himself alive doing it.

Luckily, he doesn't have to righteously explain that or suck up all his pride apologizing for putting Karkat through the motions, since Karkat effectively redirects things after giving Eridan a good chastising. Even though the deep violet flush across Eridan's face is still rather abashed, it's also got a more pleasant cause as well. Kar just kissed him. Lightly, but still. And he's captured one of Eridan's hands, rubbing it subtly. And. _And_. He pretty much just invited Eridan to strip him down a bit. Just the life jacket, but that's still something Karkat could have done on his own, without Eridan's help, clearly. He _wants_ Eridan to take it off for him.

If that's Karkat's idea of an olive branch, it's fuckin working. 

"Yeah," Eridan breathes, lips fighting to quirk back up into a small smile. He'd put it on Karkat all businesslike and careful, but now he can linger a bit, savor this. "Okay, since you knoww howw to get it back on again... I can..."

He goes for the clasps one-handed, not wanting to pull his other hand out of Karkat's grasp, fumbling a little awkwardly with them. It also probably doesn't help that Eridan's more caught up in looking at Karkat's eyes from over his shades than with focusing on what his fingers are doing. Takes a bit longer than it should for him to unbuckle the vest, but once it's hanging freely, he pushes it off of one of Karkat's shoulders, watching the bright orange slide down over the toned muscle. Eridan gets close as he reaches around to Karkat's back to pull the vest around, breathing in deeply the rich coconut scent of Karkat's skin. He gets to stay like that a few lingering moments as he struggles one-armed to get the life vest where it needs to go, and it's heavenly and awkward and not very cool. Eridan wishes he could be more smooth and sexy about this, but... is wanting to hold on such a bad thing? 

"Here, let me just--" Eridan takes hold of Karkat's other hand and lets go of the other. There. Now he can slide the vest off Karkat's other shoulder. He sets it aside and twines his fingers into Karkat's, giving him a soft smile, then lifts his hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the top of it. "Anythin else you wwant demonstrated? Maybe some additional sunblockin? Some probably came off on the vvest is all, an since it's my responsibility to make sure you're not goin to burn, I should be in charge a makin sure you're wwell covvered."

Eridan feels his face heating further. "If you wwant, that is."

 

Oh, now he remembers that sunscreen exists in a form that can be wiped off by sheering forces? His Princeliness Eridan Ampora really is the biggest moron ever, a thought that fills you with even more of those stupid fond feelings. Since he is still holding your hand up hovering near to his lips, it's easy enough for you to tug his hand over to your lips instead, gently turning it over so your can kiss the back of his fingers... one kiss for each knuckle. "Yeah," you say, turning his hand yet again so you can place a kiss right in the heart of his palm, and then another one on the pulse point of his wrist. "More sunscreen." Then you let go of his hand, taking off the sunglasses. "Go ahead, grab it."

Eridan nearly skips across the deck, over to where he put the sunscreen. Okay, he doesn't skip at all, it's nothing like skipping... more like, he sweeps majestically and dramatically over there, all pomp and pride, but the emotion is more like that of a wiggler skipping down wiggler lane, being all cute and moronical and shit. The warm feeling inside you rises, burbling up like a ferocious geyser made of pure fucking fire. Such a moron. The fact that he is all be-caped and fully clothed while you are standing here shirtless kind of adds to the inherent dipshittery of this little tableau, and were you in a tit-for-tat mood you'd demand he strip down to his pants and let you apply sunscreen too. 

But for some reason, you kind of like this better. Where Eridan's all one-sidedly coddling and protectively catering to you.

By the time Eridan sweeps his way back over to you, you've set aside the sunglasses momentarily, squinting a little because of the bright sparkling light on the water. It seriously does not surprise you at all that Eridan pretty much repeats the entire process from earlier all over again, although it's sort of fascinating (okay totally fascinating and also very enjoyable) how he manages to make it an even _more_ sensuous experience the second time around, going even slower and touching you in a more lingering, openly appreciative way, pulling you closer and reaching around to do your back while standing right in front of you. You sort of suspect he is maybe kissing your hair, but if so he's not pressing his mouth down far enough for you to definitively feel it. He almost even nearly pulls you against his precious vvestments, although maybe since they are sea-faring vvestments he's less invested (ha) in keeping them pristine and such.

When he's done, since you're not going to go tit-for-tat, you decide to go ahead and give him that second kiss after all. Like, as a reward. It's great how attentive he is taking care of you, his handsome hatched leader and all. "I like how kind of ridiculous you are, mer-troll with the cape." And you put both of your hands on either side of his burning violet cheeks, smiling at how ridiculously happy and ridiculously delighted in you he appears to be. "Come here." And you kiss him, carefully avoiding using any tongue but parting your lips, after wetting them first. This is going to be a good, long, sexy kiss. As thanks. For the sunscreen.

 

Eridan would protest being called ridiculous, he really would--what's ridiculous about wanting to make absolutely unequivocally sure that everything is perfect for Karkat today?--except, well, Kar said he likes it. That and the tender kisses Karkat pressed all over his hand and the sweet, sweet sensuous kiss they're sharing now is melting Eridan into a happy puddle of fuckin flushsick joy right here on the deck of his sailboat. This is all really going right to Eridan's head, even though there's still a tiny voice of reason in him somewhere telling him not to get too carried away. He is so fuckin flushed for Kar. And, all right, he's probably showing it a little, too much even, but it's been so hard to keep his feelings in check around Karkat for so long, out of the upmost fuckin respect (and a good helping of fear of being rejected by him), and now he's being encouraged and not shut down at all and... fuck, he should be getting a medal for holding back enough not to deepen the kiss into something more intense. No tongue, only the soft open-mouthed press of lips, so tender it makes Eridan's bloodpusher ache. 

He doesn't want it to end, but end it must. Softly, he kisses Karkat's lower lip, then the corner of his mouth, pulls back an inch, only to kiss him again. Last one. Okay, maybe after sneaking a taste. Eridan swipes his tongue over Karkat's lips, barely teasing them apart, unable to stifle a soft moan. God, Kar tastes good, but they've got sailing to do, and daylight only lasts so long...

Finally, he pulls back enough to look Karkat in the eyes, his hands around Karkat's bare waist. "I like you too, Kar."

There, he's just going to ignore the whole 'ridiculous' bit and focus on the part of that he liked best. "An noww you're all ready, I can showw you some more things you're gonna like. Cavves first, then coral reefs."

One more kiss, right to the top of Karkat's head, and then Eridan sweeps off to get the outboard motor started so he can pull away from the dock, swishing his cape back gleefully as he goes. "Be wwatchful a the boom--that's the long bit ovver here, the bottom piece a wwood the sails are attached to," he says, giving it a reverent pat. "I'm gonna be movvin it across the deck at times to catch the wwind right an I don't wwant to hit you. Don't wworry, though, I'll be callin it before I do it so you can be ready. Just wwarnin you ahead a time. Other than that, enjoy yourself."

He grins, excited to be taking his ship out and even more so because he's got Karkat along with him for it. Pulling the sailboat out of dock takes a bit of concentration, as does positioning the boat and its sails so they're heading in the right direction. It all comes as second nature to Eridan, though, and he has enough attention to spare to steal glances at Karkat every now and then not even just to make sure he's not in the way when it's time to tack, but to see if he's doing all right.

It's a gorgeous day for a sail, the wind just right and the sun not too murderous. Eridan gets absorbed in keeping his boat on course and watching for the cave entrance, feeling the pull of the current and the wind in his sails and working with them as he sails around his rocky island outcropping. It doesn't take long before they're getting close, hugging the sea cliff and skirting between outcroppings of rocks. There. The algae-and-barnacle encrusted rock face opens a few feet ahead, and Eridan carefully guides them through.

"This place is a wwonder a science," he says, voice echoing in the enclosed space as the water carries them in.

 

Oh god, fuck, a wonder of science? Really, Eridan? It's really good that you are wearing sunglasses because there was no restraining the eye rolling you just did right there. 

However, coming in under the sea cave entrance soon brings a dark shadow across your eyes, and so the sunglasses need to come off... you pull them off one-handed, and because probably it's just natural for you to do so, you start scoping out this new space. 

Right now you're sitting at the absolute rear of Eridan's sailboat, pretty close to him actually since he's been busy pushing around some fucking steering stick from side to side, doing lots of sailorly squinting at various landmarks along the reef edge but also lots of frowning down into the water too. This is the one place you can sit where it seems you don't need to worry about getting in the way of the damn boom, and you're not in the way either when Eridan goes and fusses with his ropes and sails and shit: a nice bonus, even if it's a bit uncomfortable to be perched right on top of the edge of the hull like this. You find that you like looking down at the radiant blue-green churning of the water that falls behind you as Eridan's sailboat cuts through the surf.

The first thing you notice from coming in under the cave's large open mouth is that it's suddenly much cooler; a comfortable cool, since you felt like you were baking under the sun out there. You are trying your best to keep mental notes for Gamzee's benefit, but it's a little hard to know what you're going to say to him other than "well, it was pretty fucking pretty, I guess." Maybe you should ask questions and take notes: you pull out a PDA: John's PDA, in fact, which he insisted you bring along with you on this trip, since you had decided that although it was okay to risk your life on seafaring adventures of the sea, it was not similarly okay to risk your sylladex on that same venture. 

You set the PDA to dictation mode. Eridan is looking at you in a questioning way, so you might as well start off with a nod to his curiosity. You cough a little, and then begin: "Gamzee, this is Karkat, out on the fucking ocean, and guess what? This is my ocean report. I'm here with Eridan... hey, Eridan, say hi." You hold the PDA out towards him, and Eridan says some sort of wavery hello in that accent of his. Sort of randomly, you realize that his voice is a bit deeper than it used to be... why didn't you notice this earlier? Well, whatever. "We are now coming into some caves, and they are called..." Again you point the PDA device to Eridan, but he looks a bit unsure now. He tells you that he hadn't named them yet. "Uh, okay, they are the caves of... well, wondrous science?"

At this, Eridan gives you a huge shining grin as if you'd just named him the smartest and best troll in the entire universe. You shake your head a little, feeling all stupidly warm _yet again_ over his manifest stupidity. It's just too easy to make him happy. "Yeah, Eridan likes that. Anyway... the water is kind of all pretty and stuff, and the cave... it's like, actually really fucking huge?" It's slowly getting darker, but the light from behind you is keeping things lit enough to see things pretty clearly. The cave walls are all some kind of whitish rock, and down at the water edge you see something ominous. 

"Oh my fucking god, is that the fucking tidal line!?" Half alarmed, half excited, you point to a band of darker coloration on the rocks near the waterline. It's a pretty thick band, easily several feet high. Eridan, like a total douche, bites his lower lip, biting back a smile probably, and nods yes. He isn't really looking at you, but you decide that's fine, you _want_ him paying attention to his sailing. "Eridan says yes, fuck. My god, Gamzee, it's like a death cave or something." He'd probably love it. Your voice kind of squeaks in an unfortunate, loud way, and you wince, but then you notice something else. "Oh hey, check it out. There's an echo." You shout the word echo, holding up the PDA... echo, echo, echo, comes back at you, in your voice. Fuck. So creepy.

So fucking awesomely creepy.

 

Karkat's excited narration into that piece of electronics is stirring up Eridan's enthusiasm too. This is the exact sense of wonder he was hoping to inspire in Karkat, and very similar to how he'd felt the first time he'd explored in the sea caves. Death cave. Kar doesn't know the half of it... further in, there are parts of the cave that branch off into smaller rooms, some of which are completely submerged at high tide. There are places Eridan's gone that Kar won't ever see, unless he's got a tank full of air and becomes an expert fuckin diver, or grows gills. But the parts he _can_ see are breathtaking and wondrous enough. 

This 'vestibule' cave is nice enough, huge and cavernous, cool and damp and full of deliciously dank sea air. The only sounds are the soft shoosh of water lapping at the walls and Karkat's voice. Gorgeous as it is, it's really only the beginning.

Carefully, Eridan navigates deeper into the cave, the water darkening and shadows creeping in as they move further and further from the wide cave mouth. The echo of Karkat's voice off the stone walls is lovely... That particular rough, almost gravelly quality of Kar's voice is amplified and bouncing back off so many surfaces. Eridan's facial fins twitch... the vibrations feel goddamn exquisite. "Shit, keep fuckin doin that, Kar, keep talkin an makin echoes."

It's not just because it feels good, either--Eridan can get a better sense of how far away the cave walls are and where exactly he should steer the boat from the sound waves bouncing off them, kind of like sonar or echolocation. He can do it a lot better in water, but it works enough to be useful in the air. Especially as darkness begins to descend around them. He's never taken the sailboat this far in, usually swimming the rest of the way, but Eridan can sense he's got enough room and the current is taking him where he needs it to, gently, slowly. Oh, this is perfect.

"Close your eyes for a sec, but keep talkin, yeah?" Eridan says quietly, a thrill evident in his voice. It's getting dark enough that there's not a whole lot to see anyway. Not yet. "Just... trust me."

 

"And what am I supposed to talk about if I can't see anything?" You say this, but close your eyes anyway, since there's probably some nice cave formation up ahead or bats or something. Clearly Eridan feels you're in for a treat, either way, and furthermore wants it to be a surprise, so okay fine, you'll play along. Eyes primly buttoned, you turn your face towards Eridan. "Hmm?"

Turns out, asking Eridan to suggest topics of discussion while in a death cave is a bad idea. He immediately prompts you to pontificate on the subject of "your sensuous feelins a the sea, gam'd like that i knoww it" and then "wwhy not mention the details a the salt sea air an the moist shivvery chills a the darkness closin in, all poetical-like and such," and eventually you just hold the PDA microphone over towards him, wordlessly. Predictably, Eridan clams up the second you do that.

Ughhh, fine. You slide your ass off the rear ledge of the boat, slipping down to sit on deck instead, and scootch your way over to where Eridan is, leaning against his leg in a very eloquently accusatory manner. If he wants you to wax fucking poetic, he had better be careful what he asks for, since well, you'll fucking give it to him. "Well, Gamzee, you heard him. Eridan thinks I've got a whole bunch of sensual thought about your semi-shared homeland with him, which okay maybe I do.... let's see." You turn to rub your nose into Eridan's leg, sniffing. "Sadly, sea trolls don't smell like salt _or_ like coconut... in fact, did you know, they smell exactly like..." Another sniff-- Eridan's not wearing the rose today, and his pants leg mostly just smells like detergent, but you get a waft of whatever cologne he put on earlier, possibly because he's dropped one hand down onto your hair and is now petting your head gently... "oh god, Eridan, what the fuck are you even wearing?" 

He smells like kind of sexily rank orange peels decomposing in a rainforest, if that is even a thing. Eridan mutters some shit about this stuff he read about in troll GQ back on Alternia and you roll your eyes. You ask him to name it, and whatever it is, you cannot translate it into comprehensible speech, but whatever... it sounds fucking expensive, and you know for sure it probably is. Or rather, was. "All right, Eridan says it's what he just said. I hope you caught that since I'm not repeating it." Eridan repeats it; you ignore him. "At this exact moment we are probably seconds away from scraping the hull on rocks and running into one of the tide-stained walls of death..." (wwe so are not!!) "... and up ahead is some kind of mystical experience of deep sea coral caves, and I think I'll feel cheated if it doesn't turn out to be a hidden dragon egg half-buried in layers of ancient sediment..." (come on kar, seriously? that's upright nonsense) "... and anyway I am going to pause the recording now because a once-in-a-lifetime experience is before me and you'll just have to live in pretend suspense, waiting to find out what."

And you do just that... you press pause on John's PDA, and put it down next to you on the deck. "I don't really do poetic," you say, although probably by now Eridan's thinking no shit and he's sorry he asked. "Are we almost there?"

 

"Yeah, wwe're close... givve it just a sec." Eridan's voice is low. He's not going to say it, but he's pretty glad the recording's stopped for now. Not that he doesn't want Kar to be able to share this with Gam, it's just that now he'll get to savor Kar's first reaction to what's ahead all to himself. What's ahead sort of calls for a private moment, he thinks. 

Eridan's leg is warm where Karkat is leaning against it, that warmth and closeness warming him right to the core too. Poetical Kar may not be, but he's got loads of charm even so. 

One last card of his fingers through Karkat's hair, and then Eridan has to pull his hand away. They've gone about as far into the cave as he feels comfortable with. "I'm goin to havve to shift a bit to drop anchor, so don't get alarmed wwhen I movve. Keep your eyes shut til I givve the word, okay?"

There's just enough light for Eridan to get the boat secured and anchored. His movements echo off the walls, his footsteps on the deck, the sound of the anchor line being slowly payed out, the slosh of water as the anchor is lowered in. Once he's satisfied the boat isn't going anywhere, Eridan can relax.

He sits down next to Karkat and scoots in close, then takes hold of Karkat's shoulders and turns him a little so he's facing more directly into the cave. "Noww," Eridan whispers. He glances at the stunning display before them, then turns so he can watch Karkat's ever-so-slightly illuminated face. "You can look, Kar."

 

Slowly, somewhat warily, you open your eyes. You have no idea what to expect, but Eridan's hushed demeanor clearly telegraphs how much he wants you to enjoy whatever it is he's going to show you. At first, all you see is blackness, and you blink a few times. Blackness, and then...

"Huh... hmm." You breathe in, a hitched breath. "... Stars?" 

You turn to look at Eridan, gently confused... his face is lit softly with a faint whitish-blue glow, and he is just staring at you expectantly. He squeezes your shoulders, shakes his head just a little, no... so you look again. Above you, it feels like you've been cast into a night sky, but yeah, no, of course it's not stars. This is a cave, that didn't suddenly change and yet... you look closer, and shake your head a little now too, squinting. Still looks like stars, somewhat, no matter how you parse it. Each seeming star is giving off a pallid steady gleam, faint and yet with a sharply icy hue. What-- 

"Oh." You get it. You are, after all, a genius-- it's glow worms or something. Glow worms, in an authentic fucking glow worm cave. You find yourself leaning into Eridan a little bit more, and barely notice as he slides his far hand off your shoulder to hook round your hip instead, pulling you closer and into what later you'll classify as a totally gratuitously florid, romantic embrace. Right now you just can't stop looking upwards. It's... wow, it's really fucking beautiful. So absurdly, ridiculously fucking beautiful. You shake your head again, slightly.. it's like you instinctually are rejecting that this is even real, because how can it be? It reminds you of... oh my god, this is totally the same as... wow. You part your lips, take a sharp breath. "It's... just like Kiss the Girl..." you say, distracted and absorbed. Just like it. Just like that one scene...

Sha la la la, floating in a blue lagoon. Boy you better do it soon... You know all the words. Of course you know all the words. Hell, didn't that movie just come up yesterday? 

"Don't say shit," you add, warningly, since it occurs to you that you just said something so ridiculously lame, and your face is suddenly on fire with a kind of burning shame, but you're too distracted by the lights to be real serious about it, and your voice carries no heat. "But you know what I mean, right?" 

Eridan dips his head into your shoulder, buries it there, and good, you can feel him nodding into you, nuzzling into you. Fine. You can't look at him right now, either, and that feels just... exactly perfect.

Since, well... the Little Mer-Troll, of course. That's what you mean. 

Your absolutely first favorite fucking movie, with your first favorite fucking role model, Horatio Thelonious Ignacious Crustaceous Sebastian the Awesome, who was so suave and hilarious and also charming and always right, an unabashedly romantic and yet dignified crab hero. Crab dad and you used to watch that together, on infinite loop, back when you were just a wiggler with stupid shining wiggler idealisms, and back then you _did_ sing the song, every single damn time, loud and awesomely and with all of the necessary appropriate enthusiastic hand waving which was just a must. You get a lump in your throat. That's a very private but important memory, just you and crab dad. You haven't thought about it for real, though, in a long long time. 

You look back and forth, slowly, scanning the scene, drinking it in. Eridan has no idea, of course. Absolutely no idea. But... "Wow, Eridan... this is perfect," you say, softly. "You don't even..." The lump in your throat seems to get bigger, you need to swallow around it, and your voice gets all gruff. "Wow." So many tiny pretend stars. A tiny pretend universe, just for you. 

For the both of you.

 

"Yeah. Wwoww. That's exactly wwhy I had to showw you." Eridan exhales deeply, staring out at the constellations of tiny, softly glowing worms spread across the cave's ceiling and walls, head still nuzzled into Karkat's coconutty shoulder. He finds one of Karkat's hands with his free hand and begins to soothingly trace his knuckles. "I got choked up too the first time I came in here an saww all a this."

He'd swum in then spent hours, captivated, just floating on his back beneath the luminescent living stars. It was so beautiful, and made him feel very small, reminding him how fuckin vast the universe was... kind of made him feel both more alone than he'd ever been, and somehow less so at the same time. Staring up at all those worms, clusters of them, glowing gently together, Eridan often wished he had someone to share it with. Now he does. And it's more wonderful than he could have even imagined.

"Look," Eridan raises both their hands and points to a pattern of glow worms on the left side of the ceiling. "I can kinda see your sign. A little wwobbly, I guess. An mine, under it some, ovver there."

That's enough of a sign for Eridan... he lets their hands rest on Karkat's thigh and pulls him in even closer with the hand still around Karkat's hip, and stares at the blue lights for a moment. Everything is perfect. Maybe he should... kiss the boy. Wouldn't it be a waste not to? When is he ever going to have Karkat all to himself again in a place so upright goddamn--yeah, he's going to say it--magical? The cave and its glowing worm constellations are all on account of science, but the atmosphere... that's feeling pretty fuckin enchanted right about now.

"I'm happy you're here wwith me, Kar. I couldn't think a anyone else I'd rather be sharin this wwith, an that's the wwhole infactual truth." The last few softly spoken words are mouthed against Karkat's bare skin, where his shoulder and neck meet. Eridan's lips linger there a moment, then he slowly begins pressing tender kisses up the column of Karkat's throat. His grip tightens around the hand he's still holding on to as he makes his way up, kissing Karkat's jaw. He pulls away enough to look at the contours of Karkat's face limned in lambent blue, framed against a backdrop of glowing unreal stars. Nothing up to this point has ever been more romantical in all Eridan's life. He is going to make this fuckin count.

Deliberately slowly, he closes the small distance between them to give the tenderest of kisses to Karkat, all softness of lips and a gentle taste of tongue, sweet and sensual without being demanding. He is a fuckin prince bestowing a rapturous kiss on his beloved under a canopy of stars, and no evil bloody eels are going to capsize them and ruin this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herongale here: FYI, the fragrance I gave Eridan is an actual thing, it's Bigarade Concentree by Jean-Claude Ellena, which is a pretty fancy unisex fragrance that I bought once upon a time, simply on the strength of a highly complementary perfume review of it that I read some time ago by the New York Times "perfume critic," Chandler Burr. If that isn't Eridan-tier hipsterishness in action, I really don't know what the fuck is. <3
> 
> 11/17/13 chapter update: added art that I commissioned from the amazing [Bana](http://banavalope.tumblr.com/) for this piece. ISN'T IT PERFECT AND LOVELY omfg you guys.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next best thing to speaker crab.

There is a little bit of a delay between when Eridan starts kissing you and when you really start attending to what is happening, and Eridan is _well_ into kissing you, very tenderly too, by the time his words sink in. 

Was that a confession? Like, a full-on flushed feelings confession? You blaze with flustered speculations, confusedly trying to dissect the meaning behind words you barely were even listening to, even as he is pressing his mouth against yours, tonguing softly at your lips, the tip of his tongue finding the tip of yours just behind your slightly parted lips. Ahhh. Eridan really is a good kisser, you decide, which seems really just like a distraction, a sort of romantic sleight-of-hand to keep you from noticing that he confessed. Did he confess?

"You're sure?" you say, which feels like a semi-decent prod to follow-up on whatever Eridan had been saying about there not being anyone else he'd want to be with, here and now. "Does that mean... you'd only show it to me?" Or wait, that kind of seems like an astoundingly presumptuous thing to say, now that you hear yourself murmur it out-loud. It wasn't about only you, whatever he'd said... it was more about... no one he'd rather. Being number one is hardly the same as being only. "Wait, never mind... I see."

Eridan has paused with his kisses. You ache from across your chest down into your nook, which is just the slightest bit throbbing and wet. Maybe he just paused to answer you. But maybe not- he's skittish and cautious and you have a kind of angry, exceedingly frustrated apprehension that he'll pull back if you're not perfectly careful here. The moment feels so fragile. "Keep going," you demand, breathlessly and with a needy groan, which echoes strange and loud in this quiet vaulted space. "Keep going."

The sound of waves lapping at the boat and the cave walls is all you can hear other than your own echoing noises, and maybe the intermittent drip of gathered condensation falling occasionally from the high ceiling, where the worms continue to glow.

 

Eridan feels his bloodpusher skipping unsteadily in his chest as he gives Karkat what he wants and kisses him some more. He's a little confused, not sure what it is Kar 'sees' since he didn't get to answer his question. There's nobody else he'd rather share this- _any_ of this- with, and though he didn't say Karkat was the _only_ one he wanted to share it with it only took him a momentary thought to realize that yeah... Kar really is the only one he wants in this gorgeous, romantic, private place with him. If that's selfish, so be it; Eridan's willing to admit he is damn fuckin selfish a lot of the time. 

But he's pretty relieved Karkat didn't press him for an answer, confusing as his sudden 'seeing' was. What Eridan's most afraid of is that being his only one isn't what Kar would want to hear... it kind of sounded like maybe he would, but that's not for certain, and telling him he's the only one is dangerously close to exposing just what kind of relationship Eridan would like to have with him. While there's hope there, he's still not ready to just go and announce his feelings. There's still an equally high chance of getting rejected as not. Eridan knows his fuckin odds and his luck and realizes Kar only even started _talking_ to him again yesterday.

So Eridan's going to keep on being the fantasy prince and give Karkat all the sweetness he can, while he can, and then... maybe. Maybe, before Kar leaves, right before, he can tell him how he feels. Let him go back and think on it, no fuckin pressure. 

Or maybe he'll wait, since just the thought of really confessing has Eridan's guts twisting.

Okay, no more of that, only increasingly sloppy makeouts now. Without meaning to, Eridan's deepened the kiss, slowly and thoroughly exploring Karkat's mouth with his tongue. He's rubbing Karkat's hip and outer thigh with one hand, the other still clasping Karkat's. There's no one else he wants to hear moaning for him, no one else he wants to keep kissing like this. And Eridan counts himself lucky he's being allowed to now. "Mmm, yes," Eridan murmurs open-mouthed against Karkat's lips. "Wwhatevver you want, Kar. Wwon't stop."

 

Good. That's right. No stopping now, or rather no stopping yet; this should be a one-way non-stop non-refundable ticket to sloppy makeout nirvana. You are trembling all over, but only very slightly, the hot throbbing pulse in your nook becoming hotter and even more wet, your bone bulge sheath quivering. It is slowly occurring to you that at some point you've dropped all pretense that these kisses are for anything other than wanting to kiss, and right this very moment you want nothing other than to be kissed, just by Eridan, for some leisurely, lengthy stretch of time... the ache inside you deepens, and you close your eyes and relax into the kiss as much as you can. 

It's like you feel a profound need to give over. To allow yourself to be more and more adored. You lift your one free hand from the deck, and your hand shakes a little more as you ghost your fingertips over the back of Eridan's hand as he touches you so possessively along the side of your body and across the top of your thigh. He's so flushed for you. So fucking flushed. Whatever you want... that's what Eridan is saying. He won't stop, he says. The way he lingers over your name, too. You like it. You like all of it.

"Eridan," you murmur into his mouth, wanting to do more, actually aching for it. There has to be a limit, you find yourself looking to say, but not wanting to, because to say it means to stop. If he's this flushed for you, that probably means at this moment he wants to be matesprits with you-- you realized this yesterday, but didn't let yourself think about it then. You might have to start thinking about it soon. But right now he has taken you to this amazingly beautiful, secret place, and he is kissing you like you are the most precious thing he has ever seen, and how can you stop him? You don't even want to stop him. 

You are feeling the most disorienting, frustrating things, but you are also feeling so exceptionally sweet on him, too, right now. You want this to keep going. You want it so much you could even beg for it. But also, there has to be a limit. And there also has to be a way you can give a hint of how you feel, without leading him on but also without destroying the moment. But how? How? If you're really a romance scientist, shouldn't this come so easy to you? Why doesn't it? You don't understand. You are Karkat Vantas, badass threshecutioner-in-spirit (and romancelord in reality), and you... don't have the first clue what you should say, or do. There is a harsh burn in your throat, a burn that is full of indescribable longing and caution, and you want him to know how much you like him. You really do like him. 

"Eridan, Eridan... Eridan," you say finally, helplessly. No good. "Eridan."

 

"Shh," Eridan murmurs, unable to help the twitch of a smile even in the midst of kissing as he hears his name falling from Karkat's lips over and over. God, that is intoxicating. "Shoosh. Kar. Kar, god you're fuckin gorgeous."

Gorgeous and really damn hot and strong and sweet and just pretty well everything Eridan wants. And the way Karkat is responding--kissing him back, the soft touch of his hand--is so encouraging. Not to mention intensely arousing. Good as that is, it's reminding Eridan sharply of last night. He doesn't want to have to call things off right when they're hottest again; it was torture enough once, doing that again would be just fuckin unconscionable. The fact still stands that Eridan's not ready to go too far unless it really means something. He trusts Karkat, but right now he's really not sure _where_ he stands with him. Someplace good, yeah, someplace wonderful and amazing where they get to make out on top of being bros... but it's not all tidily in his flushed quadrant no matter how seriously and badly Eridan wants it to be.

Not that he's about to go back on his word and stop. Not now. It may have been a little hasty of him to say he _wouldn't_ stop, but will Kar blame him if he does later? He's still very much engaging in highly satisfying makeouts, swallowing each little sound Karkat makes, breathing a fair few of his own. Showering affection on Kar is addicting, and Eridan would like to keep on with it. Clearly it's making Kar feel just as good as it's making _him_ feel, all quivery and wanting.

But. Just. Fuckin... fuck. Eridan has to be really careful here... his pants are already starting to feel ever so slightly uncomfortably tight, and his bloodpusher's beating like he's just swum a damn marathon. And not only is this probably kind of dangerous, but amazing as all this upright romantic kisssing is, this isn't the only thing he wants to do with Karkat today. There are only so many hours of daylight left.

Okay, a little more kissing, and a lingering nibble at Karkat's tender lower lip for good measure. Then he can break away, just for a second.

"Mmm, Kar, don't wwanna stop." That may have come out as a bit more of a whine than Eridan intended. He takes a breath, forehead pressed to Karkat's. "Don't wwanna, but... fishes. The reef. There's lots I havven't gotten to showw you yet. Can wwe, later, maybe... keep kissing?"

 

Yes. Right. Perfect. That's the exact right way to transition out of this before things go shitfaced down the path to overly turned-on hell. And if Eridan is asking for more kissing later, then of course that's as good as a fucking promissory note that the more kissing is going to happen, eventually, which will make it a lot easier to gracefully retreat from this uncomfortably evocative place which is clearly like some kind of seductively evil siren's death cave of romance or whatever.

"Yeah," you mouth softly, trying not to sigh in relief because wow you were getting really fucking conflicted there. And then, because you realize that Eridan probably can't actually hear words that are spoken with no sound, you repeat yourself, this time in as low-pitched a voice you can muster, rough and coarse and so, so turned on unfortunately, still. "Yeah... yeah. That's great," you murmur, and you sort of turn your body a bit more towards Eridan, while remaining forehead-to-forehead, and you reach up to touch the side of Eridan's face, and the short, thick, semi-curling locks of ink-black hair near his auricular appendage. "Before, during the movies, maybe... let's have a whole marathon," you add. "A, uh, romance-a-thon. Maybe."

And then you pull back, disentangling yourself and sliding a bit backwards, eyes still fixed on Eridan, though, despite all the beautiful stuff going on above and around you. You've never felt more on the same page with him... you're both breathing a little heavily, at almost exactly the same rate and rhythm, and he looks exactly as turned on and as conflicted as you feel. Maybe you should work out some things mentally before you try for more kissing again. And if you don't get things worked out- you sort of suspect you might not- you can at least lay down some mutually agreed-upon ground rules about where to stop before you get going, which you now know are absolutely necessary.

"Let's first just, well, give me a second." You finally look away, looking down to the side, reaching for John's PDA, which you had carelessly set aside. Now you pick it up, and fumble with the buttons, unpausing the recording. "Back," you say, making an effort to reorient yourself to reality by distancing yourself some from what just happened. "Gamzee, you will not even fucking believe it... it's a goddamn glowworm cave, all lit up like fucking stars. And, and... Eridan and I..." you look over at Eridan, glance for just a moment, swallow. "We just really made out, you know." It feels important, you realize, that Eridan know you're going to tell Gamzee about this. "It was... ha, well. It was really hot, okay? And now we're going to see fishes and shit. You should be jealous."

And then you press pause again. "Okay?" you say, looking back towards Eridan again and keeping your eyes on him now. He seems to nod, a little, dazed, and you take that as an affirmative. "Okay."

 

Okay. That was not something Eridan ever thought he'd get to be hearing, but that sure did just happen. Kar just told Gam about them making out. He said it was _hot_. That Gam should be _jealous_. Maybe of the fishes, but everything after 'really hot' is kind of a blur to Eridan. Gamzee can be jealous of all of it for all he's concerned. 

Fuck, Eridan can feel his cheeks burning up again. He kind of thought Kar might tell Gam about what all they'd been up to, they're moirails and all and moirails are supposed to talk about that kind of thing with each other, right? But, like... in private. Where the partner in the very fuckin hot makeouts can't hear. So this is big, right, this is being judged and found very fuckin worthy, right to his face. And it's a big deal anyway, 'cause Kar isn't going to go back and keep all the kissing a secret. He is not fuckin ashamed of making out with Eridan. It was hot. And he is _telling Gam about it_.

That is a little mindblowing. Yeah, Eridan's dazed. He kind of stares at Karkat for a moment, feeling like he's glowing as much as the worms are, before finally dragging himself up. He has to... get the boat out of the cave. For fishes.

It's a good thing taking the boat out of anchor and getting it ready to move again is like breathing to him; he can manage that all while still half-dazed. Only when it's time to turn the boat around and get moving does he have to really focus, and by that time he's calmed enough that he can do it. He still feels like he's practically flying, but that's not getting in the way of his concentration at all. The motor is necessary to get them moving again. No way around it. Eridan warns Karkat he's going to have to shatter the peace, and shatter it does as the harsh motor echoes loudly off the vaulted cave walls. It takes some careful maneuvering to turn around and head out to the main cave, but Eridan does not mind one bloody bit. That was all well worth it.

He takes it slow as he eases the sailboat back out into the daylight, giving them time for their eyes to adjust. It also gives him time to think about what else Karkat said... they're going to have a whole damn _romance marathon_ later. Eridan's not sure if he meant movies or kissing, or maybe both, but any which way that is exciting as hell. This day just keeps getting better and better, somehow, and it was already going to be the best fuckin day ever.

The fresh sea breeze does a lot to clear Eridan's mind once they're out in the open again. He breathes deep and shoots Karkat a beaming smile, then gets them pointed back in the direction of the reefs, careful not to hit Kar with the boom as he tacks--that'd be a good way to fuck things up, give his gorgeous fuckin flushcrush a concussion or bruising or send him fuckin overboard on accident. "Okay, Kar, romance marathon later, noww it's time for a reef explorin marathon. Are you ready?"

 

Are you ready? Ha. You were fucking born ready. You pound your fist into the palm of your opposite hand, feeling really damn pumped although you're not even sure why. It's not like you're especially enamored of fish or anything, but okay, maybe it's just great that you and Eridan got out of a somewhat tricky romantic jam without any kind of emotional disaster transpiring, and you're feeling great about that. You decide to be a bit braver in terms of where you position yourself on Eridan's sailboat, and that means you're having to duck a little or move when Eridan is doing his business... it's surprisingly energetic, the way he has to hop around and make all sorts of adjustments, and it's pretty awesome and invigorating when he's making the boat turn and has to radically adjust his sails and they get all lax until the wind fills them again, and then the boat is doing all this neat side-tipping. Kind of a rush, actually. 

So instead of looking behind, you're now looking largely ahead. Eridan is taking you out into the open seas, giving the reefs a wide berth apparently, and you decide that makes sense if you don't want to, like, run aground or destroy precious ocean habitats or whatever. You've put the sunglasses back on, and even though the sunlight is back to burning on your skin, you can tell it's not really damaging you... you keep checking, though, just to be sure. 

Maybe now would be a good time to think a little bit about what you're doing with Eridan, here. Based on your own personal sloppy makeout criteria, you've pretty much gone past your own limits several times now, and that sort of worries you... are you now entering a new and exciting slutty phase in your stupidly pathetic life? (you make sure to put the words "new" and "exciting" in appropriate contempt enclosures inside your head.) But that is hardly even the most important point to contemplate; when you came out here, you had to be cajoled into it, and it took a fuckton of cajoling to get you even to think about it. You... you wanted to be done with Eridan, really. You really did.

Of course, seeing him now, seeing how he's actually changed for the better, and yeah, seeing how happy you make him, you realize that you were being really dumb and an asshole. Surprise, surprise, right? And... and remembering how happy he makes you (when he's not being a total douche), and how much you like the way he admires you and always has, even back when you were less than nothing and he was pretty much king of the fucking hemospectrum... that means something to you. It means a lot.

So... either you really are becoming the biggest fucking slut in the universe (and if so, you want to shoot yourself right now), or... maybe something is actually going on here. Maybe something reciprocating, in terms of your own feelings. You... you don't know.

And how will you know, really, if you can't even figure out first what is going on with Eridan? You want to be liked for yourself, and only for yourself. Not just because you're who happens to be here.

Probably it takes about an hour or so to make it to where Eridan wants to take you. He drops anchor some fair distance from the reef itself, and so you know you're going to have to swim towards it and well, you've never actually swum in anything other than lakes and things... the ocean itself suddenly feels kind of fucking intimidating but like hell you're going to let that slow you down! No, the bigger issue now, you realize (and feel like a fool about since you didn't realize it before), is that you're going to have to change into your swim trunks, on this sailboat which doesn't really afford a lot of room for privacy. 

"So, how are we going to do this," you ask Eridan, and he looks over towards you, a kind of questioning look on his face. "Changing," you say, as you go over and pull out the swim trunks, waving them towards him. "And please don't tell me you're swimming in a fucking cape, either."

 

Eridan raises an eyebrow, then makes a nice show of undoing his cape and swirling it off of his shoulders. "Oh come on, Kar, this one's not made for that. A course I'm not wwearin it in the wwater." There's a smirk on his face as he folds it neatly and sets it down with the rest of his things. His scarf follows. These are fine vvestments, seaworthy but fine nonetheless. Eridan's got specially made scarves and capes for when he wants to go out swimming looking as fabulous as possible. The reef is no place for a cape or scarf, though, even ones meant for the water. They'd just end up snagged on the coral and obscuring the little fish. Today he's just going to wear his swimming outfit, no frills.

"I figure wwe can be gentlemen an face opposite directions to change, yeah? You can just yell wwhen you're ready 'cause all I gotta do is take off all a these layers an then put on my sunblockin cream." Eridan came prepared. He's already got his swimming gear on under his clothes. "Or if you wwant you can evven face my wway. I'm not strippin naked or anythin."

There's no way he's going to peek at Karkat changing, no matter how appealing the thought of him completely undressed is. That'd be upright rude and not befitting of him. Might make Kar feel better to have an eye on him anyway, and that's fine--it's kind of a chance to prove how polite and trustworthy he is.

Eridan's blushing a bit again as he shoots Karkat a smile, then pulls out his sunscreen before turning around to face the other way. He wastes no time in pulling off his shirt, folding it neatly with the other garments. The pants take a bit more time to get off, tight as they are; plus he has to be careful his swimming pants don't come down with them. Not that he'd mind, exactly, giving Kar a bit of a show, but it'd be rather goddamn ungentlemanly of him after telling Kar he wouldn't be showing too much skin here. And anyway, his fuckin swweet blue snakeskin-printed Speedo briefs are sexy enough as it is.

Once he's standing on the sailboat's deck in nothing but his swimwear finery, Eridan sets to covering his newly bared skin in the same coconut-scented sun cream as he made sure to fully coat Karkat with earlier. This is also something he does often, so he rubs it in all over with an air of utility about the chore. The smell is kind of doing things to him he wishes it wouldn't. With an inward groan he realizes coconut's never going to be the same, is it? 

Time to get his gills well slathered, much as he doesn't like the 'taste' of the water filtered through them mixed with sunscreen--it'd be bloody excruciating if they were to burn. It's taking a lot less time to slick himself up than covering Karkat's skin did, even though there's a lot more for him to cover... that was something to savor, touching Kar... The blush on Eridan's cheeks deepens, and he shakes his head. 

He keeps going about his business, trying his best not to show how much he's listening for Karkat to give him the word to turn back around. If his shoulders are a little tense, and his aural fins twitch every so often at the sound of Karkat moving behind him, well... that's just no big deal. Not like he's anticipating this or anything.

 

Let's just pretend that Eridan didn't all but admit he has underwater capes _and_ scarves, you decide to agree silently, to and with yourself, since wow. 

Eridan's plan is favorable, and because he gave you carte blanche to watch him strip, of course you're going to, and so you casually put one hand on your hip and stand there for a moment to watch as he turns away, having a little moment of private enjoyment over how he folds every bit of his clothing, from cape to shirt to... hmm, okay, what? You blink when Eridan starts shimmying out of his tight pants it becomes clear that he's wearing... god, you don't even know how to describe them. Micro-mini swim briefs? In a semi-irridescent bluish pattern that looks like scales or something?? You swallow, sort of kind of indignantly turned-on, since nothing that offensively atrocious should be hot in any kind of way whatsoever, but somehow on Eridan, these alleged swim panties seem to meet muster. Because somehow, his pretentious skinny hipster ass is able to work them. 

Welp, that makes it a lot easier to get on with what you're actually supposed to be doing here; Eridan's pants are not even all the way off yet by the time you've kicked off your shoes and dropped your trousers and boxers simultaneously, stepping out of them easily since you don't feel the need to wear them stupidly tight, like Eridan does. You don't fold them and pretty much basically ignore them as you step into your swim pants, which are a _lot_ more reasonable than Eridan's style-wise seeing as how they have drawstrings (awesome) and come down to just above your knees (hot) and are black with a nice bit of rust red-to-orange striping up top (color coordinated to suit Terezi's various color-flavor preferences). That pretty much takes you all of ten seconds, so you have plenty of time to sit back and watch Eridan lotion up. 

You never would have really anticipated that watching Eridan slap sunscreen all over his body in a truly utilitarian, non-sensual way, would turn out to be such a hugely enjoyable thing to scope out. It's like this completely undiscovered well of cuteness, how Mr. Thinks He's All That turns out to approach this task in such a simple, straightforward way, without any sense of flair or dramatic. You feel yourself grinning, but also your cheeks are warming up too, a lot since it's really distracting and precious and, precisely because he's so unselfconscious about it, just kind of fucking heartwarming. This, you realize, is probably the Eridan that Feferi remembers and knows best, a little window into how he used to be. Because you're so distracted, you pretty much forget to tell Eridan you're done.

Eventually Eridan kind of pauses, and you notice his face-fins twitching, and you realize he's basically finished up with the lotion and is now waiting for you. Oops. "Ahh, lemme have that," you say, walking up to him where he's still facing modestly away from you, grabbing the sunscreen from his one hand and then sitting down right there, right behind him, so as to get the lotion going on your legs. "Nice swim trunks," you decide to comment, making sure to sound as smirky as possible about it, intently looking down at what you're doing so that you don't have to see the look in Eridan's face when he turns around and looks down at you, and so he doesn't have to see either your blush or your grin, both of which you can totally tell are now very massive. Eridan just has no fucking idea how hilarious he is, does he? Without even trying to be. It's... just so great. "Swank," you add, deciding that throwing his ego a bone is kind of the least you can do for the secret crime of finding him hilarious (and, grudgingly, hilariously adorable) in every fucking goddamn way.

 

"The fuckin most swwank," Eridan agrees easily, grinning. Of course he's wearing the most fashionable swimwear, and only the style the very best swimmers wear. It doesn't matter one bit that Karkat has no fashion credentials especially in the area of swimming attire; he's the critic whose opinion matters most to Eridan right now. And Kar approves. And it only bothers Eridan a little bit that he called his iconic Speedo briefs 'trunks'. He almost says something, but then decides Kar can call them whatever he wants as long as he thinks they're swank.

Now he can't resist turning a bit to sneak a peek down and behind him where Karkat is sitting on the deck. Kar never said he could face him again, but he wouldn't be so teasing as to come up right behind Eridan and not be ready, right? Quick peek having confirmed that Kar's decent, Eridan finally turns fully so he can get a nice look too.

He takes advantage of the fact that Karkat's absorbed in coating his legs thoroughly with the sunscreen to admire his choice in swimwear. The trunks Karkat's wearing are a little obscured since he's sitting down and all bent over, but from what Eridan can see those are some pretty sexy swimming trunks. The way the colored lines fade from rusty red to orange and dip in a v right in the front there... very fuckin nice. "Your swwimmin trunks look pretty hot too. I mean vvery stylish an all."

There goes his face heating up again. Good thing Kar's not paying attention to him. "Anywway, you should get your snorkel gear an then wwe'll divve in. The wwater's deep enough here, an it'll be a real short swwim to the atoll an ovver into the nicest bit a the reef."

 

Pretty hot, huh? As you finish up with the sunscreen and cap the lotion, you take a brief moment to contemplate whether you should take it as a compliment or as an insult that Eridan is finding your own swimwear "vvery stylish" (read: hot), considering his own taste in clothing. But then you conveniently recall that you have no opinions on fashion whatsoever, and stand up, making note instead of the deep blush on Eridan's cheeks and neck and fins. And his chest too, some. 

This also reminds you that you've never seen this much nearly-naked Eridan before, ever. In your head, you perfectly envision how you're supposed to react: you're supposed to look him up and down, smirk some more, and then flounce off to get your snorkels and shit... _or_ , according to the ideal romcom script, this is where you'd get all predatorially appreciative, feeling him up and making witty double-entendre commentary or something. But nope, no way: as a flesh-and-mutant-blooded troll, you're just going to have to have your own deeply personal reaction, which is apparently... you are going to blush right back at him, and look away, and then glare at him briefly? Uh... 

"I think you should carry the snorkel," you decide to say finally, with a bit of a sniff, ultimately paying absolutely zero attention to Eridan's slim, creamily grey skin and also completely ignoring his lean, relaxed posturing. See, everyone can tell you're completely not looking, since you put your nose up in the air, as snooty as any highblood, chin raised in a similarly scornfully superior manner. And no fucking way are you going to acknowledge your own blush, or little rushed intake of breath, and you're not going to draw attention at all to how you are gripping and relaxing your fists, which you have placed all fucking leader-like on your hips. "Since you're the better swimmer and can't drown or anything."

And, because you're so helpful and also because you of course take it for granted that your decision is law, you turn around and _without and drama or seductive motions whatsoever_ , go grab the snorkel and also the goggles. You drop the snorkel into Eridan's upraised hands and then snap on the goggles. "Okay, ready. Where should we jump off?"

 

God, Kar is cute when he's being all blushy and demanding. It's like he's being all leadery even when he's not even sure what he's doing, and it's a little obvious he doesn't since he had to ask where to jump from. That's the very fuckin definition of being a natural hatched leader, ready to leap in all fearlessly and give orders even to the more experienced seamen on board. Not like this is serious or they're in any danger or anything, but it's still kind of admirable and adorable all the same. 

Eridan's not sure if it's the swimming that's got Karkat all flustered, but the blushing and the way he's looking all haughty and tense has him wanting to put him at ease. He's not used to taking orders on his own ship, but then he doesn't usually have a fuckin handsome natural hatched leader on board either. So Eridan gestures toward the back of the boat with his head, then makes his way over there. It's harder to get perfectly poised to dive with the snorkel in hand, but Eridan does his best as he jumps into the sea with hardly a splash.

A few seconds later he's surfacing, swiping the hair away from his water-specked glasses. His gills are fluttering under the water, drawing cool saltwater in and out. "Come on in, Kar," Eridan calls. "The wwater's nice."

 

Arrrrghhhh. You sort of convulse for a moment, lifting your hands up just in front of your be-goggled eyes, and you sure are having some kind of reaction of disbelief since fuuckkk that was sweet, how Eridan just sort of slipped into the water all quiet-like and slick and shit. And now he's just like being aggravatingly sexy on top of it, what with wiping the hair out of his face and all... and okay, he can wear his glasses underwater too? Un. Fucking. Fair. 

But you gather yourself lightning-quick, getting over your temporary derangement without any left-over annoyance or irritation. You're pretty much used to these little spells of temporary derangement by now. 

You have your own kind of sick, slick style: erupting into a furious explosion of pure adrenaline, you step to the side with sure footing, and then launch off with a kamikaze war-cry, holding your nose and dropping into the water as noisily and as disruptively as possible. The tropical waters are surprisingly warm but still chill compared to your body, so it's sharply refreshing as you dunk underneath the desultory waves, blowing out bubbles the way Jade taught you to keep from accidentally sucking in any water. You never really swam in the ocean before but shit, this isn't too bad... a few strong kicks and you're surfacing just about as explosively as you cannonballed in. 

The goggles are kind of annoying, though... you'll need them for the snorkeling, so you tug them down to ride around your neck instead, and you spin to gather your bearings. Wow, the boat really looks kind of huge and imposing from here, so your natural instinct is to swim away from it, which you do, kicking away on a backstroke... which kind of almost causes you to knock into Eridan. 

But fortunately, "almost" doesn't mean anything and when you catch a glance of him out of the corner of your eye, you stop and turn to look at him instead, swimming in place as best you can. You're totally not blushing. It's basically impossible when mostly underwater... right? Salt water drips into your eyes, which sort of stings, and ahhh that's why you need the goggles, isn't it? You blink a little, but also manage to grin. "Ahhh," you say, and then look down... the water is exceptionally clear, clear enough so you can kind of see the bottom. But it's really sort of breathtakingly far below at this point, at least in terms of what you've experienced before. "Um... l'm not idiot enough to say let's race," you say. "So, let's not? Okay?"

 

"No, wwe don't havve to race." Eridan shakes his head, smirking at Karkat. They both know who'd win that one, and anyway, Eridan would rather keep an eye on Karkat to make sure he doesn't drown or get too tired swimming or whatever and he can't exactly do that if he's racing him to the shore.

"I'vve got to say that wwas simultaneously the wworst divve an the best cannonball I'vve evver laid wwitness to." And somehow that's so perfectly Karkat that Eridan wouldn't want it any other way. If Karkat were to want diving lessons, though, he wouldn't refuse. He didn't get to be around for any of the other aquatics lessons, and Eridan kind of likes the idea of getting to share his wide depth of knowledge and skill with Kar. (And getting to spend lots of time helping him learn the positioning up close and personal is kind of an incentive as well.)

Eridan reaches out to take one of Karkat's hands and playfully pull him along in the direction of the sandy shore of the atoll for a moment, then lets go so he can swim properly. He's tempted to tell Karkat to just take hold of his shoulder and he'll pull him along, but... maybe he'll save that for the way back to the boat. Let Kar swim a little now. It'll give Karkat time to get used to being in the water, and allow Eridan a chance to see how he handles himself.

He lets Karkat set the pace as they swim for the atoll, swimming comfortably beside him. Karkat is not a bad swimmer, Eridan notices; his strokes are kind of choppy and he looks like he's putting a lot more effort into moving his arms and legs around as much as possible, but he's breathing properly and making good time. Messy as it is, Eridan finds he really likes the way Karkat swims. He sort of swims like he's angry at the water, like it's against him and he has to fight it. It's just very much _him_ and it makes Eridan smile.

Once they reach the reef shelf and the water begins to shallow they're nearly there. Karkat pulls himself out of the water like the gravity of land is weighing him down, all slouched shoulders and stomping feet. It's a completely contradictory mood to the gorgeously crystal clear water and sun sparkling down on the soft bleached sand. Not to mention not how Eridan wants Karkat feeling, all stormy and glaring like he's daring Eridan to say something awful about his swimming abilities or something. It's a damn good thing he didn't offer Kar a ride, if that's the kind of attitude he's going to have.

Eridan decides to keep his mouth shut for now and just offer Karkat a small smile. He walks beside him and bumps his shoulder up gently against Karkat's, slick wet skin against slick wet skin for an instant. "Check these out, Kar." Eridan looks down at his gill slits, each of which is sort of fluttering and spasming weakly every so often, a bit of water leaking from them and trickling down his sides as they finish expelling the last of his aqueous breaths. It feels pretty gross and uncomfortable, but doesn't last too long thankfully. "At least you're not leakin all ovver the place. Advvantage a bein a landdwweller."

 

You open your mouth, gaping openly as the water dribbles out of Eridan's body in little splutters. That is intensely gross, but also kind of cool? It's not like snotty mucus dribbling out of a runny nose or anything... it's kind of more like a sucking chest wound, draining but draining clear. For a moment you, ah, flash back to a similar puncture wound you experienced on your own body, courtesy of Jack Noir, and how it was when it was healing up: but shit, you don't want to be thinking about that. Anyway, it's pretty distracting and you forget, almost completely, the preemptive ire you'd fallen into, embarrassed at yourself and the world for the fact that you're not exactly a natural hatched swimmer. Why the hell did Eridan have to swim behind you, anyway? But no, you're not thinking about that anymore either. 

"Yeah, I guess so," you say after a moment, sounding as distracted as you feel. It's really really tempting to reach out and touch those gills, to sort of smooth them down or something, maybe, but you don't want to interfere with any weird sea-dweller breathing shit and so manage to control yourself. The two of you have stopped walking, standing on an nice bit of warm, intensely soft white sand... it's kind of miraculously soft, actually, and nothing you expected to find out in the middle of the fucking ocean. You step your feet up from side to side, mostly just to experience the softness of the sand. That is definitely going into the Gamzee report. 

Anyway, you finally tear your eyes off the fascinating/disgusting spasming gasps of Eridan's gill slits, and look up at him. "You should really go swimming with Jade sometime. I bet she could give you a run for your squiddles," using another one of your human colloquialisms you learned from Jade, all earnest and thoughtful as you think it over. Jade vs. Eridan in a swim contest? Yeah, that's something you'd like to see. "She's a really fast swimmer too, did you know that?" And oops, fuck, Eridan is opening his mouth and appears to be getting all prepared to drop some indignation on your shitty swimming ass, so you cut him off: "She almost beat Feferi once! I don't even know how, but maybe she is kind of subconsciously displacing space or something since it's like, fucking amazing."

You're kind of sometimes really in awe of Jade. You completely have to admit that some of it is residual flushed feelings even though you've done a good job, you think, getting over her after your fumbling little experiments with her ended up in failure. But a lot of it is that she's just actually kind of fucking cool, okay, and you like her a lot, and you really wish sometimes you could go back in time and bodily strangle Past Karkat for how he pretty much eternally fucked over whatever romantic chances you might have had with her. Like, you two really could have had an awesome bond there, over how you are both really awesome huntsmen and badasses and whatever, but noooo.... Past You decided it was so much better to get all schizoid on her ass and in the end you two went all conciliatory and nearly pale as you bonded over shared personality flaws instead. _Real_ smooth, Past Karkat. And fuck you. 

But shit... you just went off on a whole little Jade reverie there, didn't you? And maybe it was even kind of obvious. Shit. Shit shit fucking shit.

Well. Well... anyway, that's something that Eridan is going to have to deal with, if he wants to keep being flushed with you... you are so full of feelings, all of the time. It's pretty natural for you to have little crushes across the board, and anyway that's way different from how you feel about Terezi, and also way different from how you'd feel about any actual matesprit, potential or otherwise. Like... but ah, crap and fuck, you don't want to think about that right now, this is swimming time. Nice how you can just dig yourself these little shitholes made almost entirely out of dumb idiot awkwardness, isn't it? You just _loovveee_ being such a stupid moron, it's absolutely great. "Anyway, bah..." You reach out, grab Eridan's hand to hold, since you need to walk to the other side of the atoll and it's not even that far. "I just mean, don't discount her because she's a human and a land-dweller, you know?" 

 

Well, that really ruffled Eridan's fins, suggesting Jade could beat him in a swimming race. _Him_ , a seadweller! There might be a very _few_ advantages to being a landdweller, but in the water? He was tempted to tell Kar not to be fuckin silly. But... shit. Must be on account of the spacey nonsense Kar mentioned; that's the only way Jade could possibly almost beat Fef in a swimming contest. Eridan might vociferously insist she must have been cheating, except that the way Kar's holding his hand is pretty mollifying. If it'd make him happy, Eridan guesses he could agree to allow Jade's swimming abilities at least a modicum of credibility.

"Okay, Kar," Eridan says, sounding only a little moody. "But I got to point out that nobody's better at swwimmin than Fef. If you'd said Jade had beat her there's no upright wway I'd believve you, but since she didn't I guess I'm wwillin to givve her the benefit a the doubt."

There. That's absolutely fuckin gracious of him. He'll just have to withhold final judgement on Jade's swimming capabilities until later. Maybe he'll even challenge her to a race himself!

Feeling pretty fired up now, Eridan rather wants to get back in the water to impress Karkat somehow too. Maybe if he can catch a tiny mandarin fish for him... not only are they really shy and hard to catch, but they're really fabulously colored and fuckin cute as well. Definitely Eridan's favorite fish in the reef.

There's a spring in his step and he's swinging Karkat's arm a bit as they continue across the sandy beach to the peaceful, shimmering lagoon on the other side. He's already planning out exactly how to get Kar to the most likely locations to find a mandarin fish, other awesome places coming to mind as he thinks. This is going to be great. It's fun exploring the reef on his own, but this time will be even better. This time he gets to share it all with Karkat.

As they get to the spot Eridan's decided they should enter the lagoon from, he passes the snorkel gear to Karkat. "Here, you'll need this noww, I think," he says with a smile.

 

With a certain reluctance, you slip on the swim fins which you hate, and then with a more business-like air you fit the snorkel tubing into a clip on the side of your goggles, and then at last put the whole apparatus on (but not fitted in your mouth yet), facing Eridan with a bit of a grimace. You feel absolutely ridiculous. But like hell are you going to let a little sense of ridiculousness hold you down. There are underwater life forms and coral formations to look at, for god's sake, and Gamzee went on and on about how much he loves all that crap, you sort of feel like you love it all by proxy now. And Eridan's high spirits about this are a little infectious too... he was swinging your hand like a fucking wiggler as you were walking, and now he's grinning at you with a sort of obvious sense of impatience and excitement. 

So what you do is go over and grab his hand again, and pull him towards and then into the lagoon, walking to the edge of the shallow shelf where the water comes up to your chest, with a pretty big drop off after. The water is so clear you can already see some of the stuff that is waiting for you, schools of colorful fish you guys are going to undoubtably scare off, as well as some other things you guess. Eridan squeezes your hand a bit, and then lays down his various ground rules which boil down to basically "coral is a very precious natural resource which is very fragile and so do everything you can to avoid bumping into it," a notion you kind of want to laugh at considering how huge the flippers are that you're wearing, but you nod anyway. You'll try.

It occurs to you that Eridan is sort of hovering protectively, waiting on you before making a move, and this is usually an attitude you find quite cloying, but somehow are mostly okay with it now. Still doesn't mean you want to go in first, though. So you wave impatiently at the water, looking over at Eridan in a way that you hope telegraphs all your important stern feelings about this which must be listened to, no matter what. "You go first," you insist. "I want to actually see you underwater for a minute before coming in myself." Then you squeeze his hand, and let go. "I'll be fine, I fucking guarantee."

 

Okay. Eridan deals with the slight uncomfortableness of leaving Karkat standing there only half submerged by himself by slipping into the water sort of sideways facing Kar so he can still see him as he goes in and over the drop-off. Kar looks even more ridiculous from under the water, his top half bright and wavery. One advantage of going into the water before him is that Eridan can go ahead and stare at his lower half a bit without being noticed. That's the half of him that's under there with Eridan, after all; the half he can see clearly. And yes, those swim trunks do suit him really fuckin well. The flippers are a bit silly, but if they help Karkat swim with less kicking about then that's probably a good thing, at least among the delicate corals. 

Eridan lets himself sink a bit lower in the water, his bladder-based vascular system allowing him to do so smoothly and naturally without effort. Karkat's still not joining him, still up there watching. Usually being the center of attention is exactly what Eridan wants, but it's a little bit different right now--he can't see Kar's face, so he's not sure what he's thinking up there. Is he liking what he sees? Can he even see Eridan clearly enough from up there? Maybe he should surface and ask. Instead, Eridan waves, gesturing for Karkat to come in, then extends his arm to indicate the colorful coral reef and all the life schooling around in it. It's all so close. If Kar would just come in the water, Eridan could get on with impressing him properly...

 

You raise a hand to your mouth, stifling quiet snorts of laugh when Eridan goes under, since he does it sort of slowly and regretfully, keeping his eyes on you the whole time, expression anxious and kind of reproachful as if you've kind of hurt his feelings by not wanting to do this exactly simultaneous with him. Right near him, you can see some of the colorful corals you'll be seeing in a bit more detail in a minute: mostly a mossy, barnacled green, but with some bright pinks and blues and... fuck, it kind of looks like a rainbow drinker paradise, doesn't it? 

A large school of orange fish does an impressive about-face when Eridan enters, retreating in fishy alarm. That's kind of hilarious too. 

But anyway, your laughter quickly subsides, and so you get on with your private and secret task: checking out Eridan in his natural habitat. He looks a bit wavery and blurred, but otherwise himself. He looks so relaxed, actually, and it's really something how the sunlight filtering through the gently rippling water above him gives him a sort of unworldly, almost iridescent appearance, usual light grey skin overlaid with attractive hues of blue and green. As he settles his limbs and slowly descends, it becomes even clearer and easier to see him, since he's hardly moving at all. 

A strangely warm sensation creeps all over you. You knew you'd be turned on already, you've more or less resigned yourself to this fact, but it's not really so much about being turned on as it is about how this feeling is giving you a certain overall ache. Kind of like you want to wrap your arms around him and keep him there, keeping him from saying or doing any of the things that make people get so irritated and weary of him, making him shut up about dumb things but also listening to all of his weird and unintentionally hilarious, social inept ramblings as he goes on and on. He wasn't made for this, you realize. He wasn't designed to be so lonely and unlucky and unhappy; that's not the fate he was supposed to have. 

And sure, it's probably a good thing that he was diverted from his ambitions to become the most happily mass-homicidal maniac in all of Alternia, but you still feel kind of helplessly bad about it regardless. 

It's not that you want to help him either; this is very clear and you won't anyway. But... you want to protect him, maybe, from his own stupid self. Since you like him. Since you really, really like him.

Aw, but fuck. No. You are _not_ letting yourself go there right now. Fuck no. You shake yourself, and then check your snorkel gear one last time, before dunking your face underwater, and slowly swimming along at a shallow depth. You hold out your hand to Eridan, hoping to hell he knows not to drag you down below the snorkel tubing's surface reach.

 

Oh, good, here comes Karkat. Eridan gives him a toothy smile and swims up to meet him, excited and relieved at the same time. Now they're both under the water, they can get to the good stuff together. He takes Karkat's offered hand and comes to swim beside him, positioned slightly below and ahead so he can lead, happy to be Kar's expert guide to all things fishy and wonderful. 

One of the best things about this, Eridan decides, is that he gets Kar all to himself. PDA's aren't waterproof. It's just Eridan and Karkat and a whole reef teeming with life to explore. He twines his fingers in between Karkat's, holding on loosely and comfortably, enjoying the contact.

He leads Karkat on slowly, trying not to disturb any of the fish schooling above and through the reef, as well as those that are among the coral and anemones as they approach. It's not easy to move in such a way so as not to startle any of the little creatures, so it's important to be as slow and cautious as possible. Luckily there's a lot to look at as they drift toward a particularly bright and varied bit of the coral topography. There's a large, beautiful red fan coral that's a sort of road marker for Eridan--this is a good first spot to show Kar. Lots of black and white damselfish and some pretty yellow tangs flit about the corals as Eridan and Karkat approach. Those are nice, but they're not what Eridan means to show Kar. He pulls him in close, slowly, slowly, then turns to grin up at Karkat. Pointing, Eridan indicates the crevice between a blue coral and a yellow pillar coral... a spotted moray eel is hiding in it. "Creepy lookin, huh Kar? They're really shy though," Eridan says.

Then he points just above that crevice and show Kar several clownfish guarding their bright violet-and-aqua anemone home from hungry saddle butterflyfish. Something cute to contrast with the creepy eel; this reef has fuckin evverythin! And this is just the beginning; they haven't even gotten to where the mandarin fish like to hang out yet, or where the seahorses live. 

Eridan points his finger at a banded coral shrimp on a flat coral, thinking it's got claws that are sort of crabby and maybe Kar will like that. But he gets a little too far into the shrimp's space, and it darts out to nip him good before he can pull away, distracted as he is by grinning at Karkat. Eridan scowls, sucking on his finger and glaring at the shrimp. "You like shrimp, Kar?" he asks. "I think I just found our dinner."

 

You enjoy how Eridan is holding your hand, all romantic-like and all-- there's something absurdly touching about him wanting to indulge in his over-the-top flushed feelings for you while at the same time leading you into some fancy underwater exploring. You respond to his intertwining hand-holding by compliantly allowing him to usher you along, only kicking your stupid fin-clad feet a little to make it easier for him to get you going.

It's kind of impossible to overlook how this is more and more feeling like a flushcrush date. Like, an exceptionally active, unusually sea-themed flushcrush date, but one nonetheless. Maybe you should at least be open to the idea of entering into some kind of dating arrangement with Eridan? But almost immediately, however, the thought alone kind of makes you want to wince in self-recriminations since yes _you know_ already that this idea is dumber than fuck. There is no "dating" Eridan. There's either this, which is like bros with benefits or something, or... there's fated matesprits "4 lyfe." Absolutely no middle ground. 

Before you can ponder the matter any further, Eridan points at some shit and turns to you and... starts speaking? Huh? Does he expect you to be some kind of master lip reader or something? You can hear him, of course, although it's a bit surreal seeing him make noise with water all up in his mouth, but it's really muffled and quiet and odd-sounding and you bet that there has got to be some other component to the sound that only seadwellers can understand, and you wonder why the hell hasn't Eridan contemplated that possibility? He seems fully confident you can both hear _and_ understand him, though, because he looks right back over at the thing he was pointing at. 

Well, okay then.

But it's fine, because Eridan is all super excitedly pointing out some other things, and you think maybe he understood your limitations after all, but then he gets bitten (ouch, and...damn, what good does it do to suck on your finger underwater? That makes no sense but is also stupidly cute so you don't mind)... and yep, suddenly it's back to incomprehensible city. So you just sort of sigh into the snorkel, close your eyes for a moment, and then gesture, pointing up. In order to make your intention even more crystal clear, you tug on his hand and swim up, spitting the snorkel apparatus out of your mouth once you clear the surface (this means you need to let go of Eridan's hand, to readjust it properly to the side), and then swim in place waiting the couple of seconds more it takes him to meet you topside.

He immediately is all what, kar, what's wrong? once he breaks the surface of the water (although he goes right back to sucking on his stupid finger, with an impressively offended, wounded air... does it really piss him off that bad when wildlife bites, or bites back? You'd think he'd be used to it, right?). "What did you say?" you ask, very patiently. He of course becomes puzzled over that, so you decide it's necessary to explicitly clarify: "I don't understand what you're saying underwater, you silly numbnut mer-troll. Why would you even think I could?"

 

Oh... Eridan's fins flush violet. "I guess I nevver thought about it," he admits. "I'vve only evver been swwimin underwwater wwith Fef an a course she can hear me fine." 

Apparently underwater communicating had something to do with being a seadweller. It probably was stupid of him not to realize that, but he'd never even had occassion to observe or speak to a landdweller underwater, unless they were one of Vriska's plank-victims, and then, well... they were dead. That doesn't seem like a nice topic to bring up now, though, so Eridan runs a hand back through his hair to get the wet strands out of his face and gives Karkat an apologetic little half-smile. 

"Sorry. Wwhat I said doesn't matter really, only that the moray eels look creepy but are really shy, an a joke about findin our dinner after that little shrimp had the fuckin audacity to injure my finger wwhen I was just pointin out its cuteness an majestical claws." He's scowling a bit again at the memory, showing Karkat the tiny bright violet bruise on the end of his index finger. That shrimp will get what's coming to it someday if it goes picking fights with every well-meaning sea troll it runs into.

"Anywway, I'll remember not to go talkin to you underwwater or anythin anymore, an if you got somethin to say just tug on my hand again and wwe'll surface. You ready to go back in?" Eridan sure is. Talking above water while his gills are still submerged actually takes some effort for him, what with it requiring him to have his lungs full of air when his gills want him breathing only water. "I still havve things I wwant to showw you. An... you're havvin a good time, right, Kar? Evven though I'm bein silly?"

Really, that's something he should have thought of sooner too. He's been blithely assuming Karkat's having as much fun as he is out here in the reef, but if he can't even talk under the water then how's Eridan to know if he really is or not? "If there's anythin you wwant to look at, just pull me ovver to it. I wwant you to havve some vvolition here too; that's half the fun of explorin together."

 

"Yeah," you say, voice a bit softer since the bit about asking you whether you're having a good time and worrying about seeming silly is just really stupidly sweet of him, and fuck Eridan for being the kind of bastard to get you to be all sappy over meaningless garbage. Also, it kind of sounds like his commentary would be worth listening to, if for no other reason than he's an absolute font of unintentionally hilarious commentary... like that part about the cuteness and majestic claws, for instance, what the fuck. 

It would kind of be a pain, though, to surface every time he has a minor idea to share. But fortunately, you have an idea.

"Anyway, yeah, this is cool, I've never seen anything like it before. I'm definitely havin... having fun." You pause. After a goodly moment of contemplative pause you continue, tone becoming more crisp. "But wait... why don't we try it where if you want to say anything, you just sort of..." You lift one hand, curl your fingers while holding them in front of your mouth, as if you were preparing to share an intimate secret with someone sitting right next to you. "Come up and sort of speak it right into my ear? I think it would work if I heard it right there, maybe. We can try it with you saying something, and then I'll shake my head yes if I understand you, and no if I don't, and then we can go from there. Just give me a second."

With that, you begin putting the goggles back in place, but then stop as you remember something. Your lips curl into what is probably an awesomely devious smile, and you flash grab for Eridan's wounded hand, lifting it up to your mouth and pressing a very small kiss on top of it. "There, all better." _Now_ you can get everything adjusted. As you're trying to do that while also maintaining your position aloft, you have one more thing to say. "Don't worry about my volition. I'm fucking hosting so much fucking volition in every single orifice and pore of my body, it's like a volition party on volition island and I'm like the butler or whatever." 

That... sort of got away from you, but who cares. The point remains valid.

 

Okay, all of that is kind of making Eridan light-headed like he's getting not enough oxygen or maybe too much; who even knows anymore? All better and then some. Kar's soft tone of voice and dropping a g and _kissing his hand_ oh fuckin hell... even assuring him of his volition so metaphorically and Kar-like is making Eridan's bloodpusher beat too damn fast. He has to sink a little lower in the water til it's up to his eyes so he can sort of discreetly suck in a deep breath of water in an attempt to try to fuckin calm down a bit. Exhaling slowly through his gills, Eridan watches Karkat finish putting on his own breathing apparatus. 

What should he say to Karkat once they're both under the water again, as a test, to see if Kar can hear him if he's right up next to his auricular opening like that? Would it be too cheesy or unwelcome if he quoted a movie line at him? Earlier it was Little Mer-Troll all around them. Now, he wants to show Kar the fuckin world, like lowblooded troll Alladin to his sea-princess Jasmine, except with their castes reversed and in an underwater wonderland instead of on a bloody gullshit psionic carpet ride. That wouldn't be too forward of him, would it? Not... not as long as he doesn't kiss Kar after, right? Only 'cause he should probably wait for when they're watching movies, their romance-a-thon or wwhatevver, like Kar indicated earlier. The last thing Eridan wants to do is go against his own word. Later, he said. This isn't that much later.

Once Karkat has submerged again, Eridan follows smoothly. He gets right up next to Karkat, both of them just under the water, and takes Karkat's hand. Pulling him close, he cups his other hand gently around Karkat's auricular cartilage.

He swallows a gulp of water once. Twice, gills fluttering. Then says, hopefully loud enough, his lips almost brushing Karkat's skin. "I can showw you the wworld. Shinin, shimmerin, splendid."

Eridan pulls away enough to look at Karkat's face, his own suffused in deep violet. There's a smile across it too, small and warm. He's not sure if he hopes Kar heard him or if he hopes it was lost to the water...

 

Shit. Shit. Eridan you motherfucker _what even the fuck_. For a moment you kind of unfortunately freeze, which makes you sink just slightly... but you catch yourself quick and manage to keep your body calm enough to do the right motions... while staring at Eridan wide-eyed through your loser-nerd goggles, staring at his small, warm smile, and slowly, slowly... you nod. Yeah wow fuck.

God this is sooo fucking frustrating, needing to keep swimming and shit, since otherwise you'd... you'd... oh god you don't even know what you'd do. Probably roll around for a while with your hands covering your eyes in absolute mortification and humiliation at being the object of such excessive and fucking flagrant way over-romanticism, but also then after your moment has passed you'd lecture him on how stupid, stupid, stupid that all was, while at the same time tangling your arms and legs all around him and pushing him to the ground and making out with him super, super forcefully. Excessive romanticism needs to be punished, after all. Punished with retaliatory lack of romantic restraint.

Didn't Eridan know that all he needed to say was, like, "hello?" He seriously did _not_ need to break out into lyrics from yet another troll animated classic. 

Well, it's not as good, but there's at least something you can do to get back at him. Carefully, keeping your legs free, you reach out and grab him by the shoulders, and pull him close, and give him a wicked underwater bro embrace, chest to chest for just a nice lingering moment, letting your fingers slide up along his smooth, fit back... before you pull away. And, also, feeling all flustered, you run the fingertips of one hand down along the muscles of his arm and forearm in a sort of sexy way, until you can clasp his hand in yours once more, interlacing your fingers with his. You pull away and nod again. 

That should do it. Using your free hand, you sort of point off back in the direction you were initially headed, seeing a few things that look kind of interesting. Like, some extra colorful corals or whatever. With some loitering coral fish just doing lazy delinquent coral fish freeloader things, such as nibbling on these fronds of floating things which are kind of waving around translucently next to some sponges, being all boring. For a second you see something that looks kind of like a crab, but before you can get especially excited about that, it scurries away. Which is a shame... you need a fucking distraction, right fucking quick, since Eridan's body felt really good to touch and you kind of would like to do that some more.

 

He heard. Eridan's skin is feeling kind of tingly where it met Karkat's, the sensation lingering slightly even as he follows Karkat back to where they were before. He heard and he liked it and he hugged Eridan, which was just glorious and kind of a relief since Kar looked kind of stunned, his eyes all adorably round behind his goggles. That's all right, since it was stunned in a good way, apparently. A very good way. A tight underwater hug kind of way, and god, the way he trailed his fingers down Eridan's arm... fuckin sensual and romantic as shit. 

Eridan's still partly in a flushstruck daze as he surveys the fish and corals before them. Everything's kind of a hazy blur of bright blue tangs, pink-and-yellow anthias, waving anemones, and beautiful corals. If he was in any mind to, he'd be the first to admit he was doing a pretty poor job of showing Kar his underwater world just now.

And then he spots a flash of iridescent orange, red, aqua, green, and deep blue from the corner of his eye. Hiding in the folds of a wavy yellow coral is exactly what he'd been hoping to see--a shy mandarin fish. Eridan squeezes Karkat's hand to get his attention, then very carefully and subtly points at the little fish's hiding place so as not to scare it. For a moment it looks as if they're watching pretty much nothing, but Eridan holds a finger to his lips. If they just wait--there! The brilliantly colored and adorably frilled little fish hops out of her safe little crevice and then hovers about, visiting interesting places on the yellow coral's surface. Eridan grins and leans in close to Karkat, cupping his hand over his ear to tell him, "A mandarin fish. My favvorite!"

Now's his chance. If he wants to impress Kar with his amazing skill and reflexes, he'll have to catch it before the little fish can hover-hop its way out of sight. Eridan judges the distance and makes a grab for it, quick as he can--but not quick enough. There's a flash of iridescence and it's gone, hidden among the coral again. "Fuck," Eridan mutters, deflating slightly. He blew that one. 

One setback isn't going to stop him, though. He gets in close to the yellow coral, peering in all the little crannies. That mandarin fish is hiding but fuckin good. Something else catches his eye, though. A tiny hermit crab in a shockingly lavender shell is peering at him curiously from the edge of a flat coral shelf. Not quite a mandarin fish, but he's cute enough. Kar would probably like him. "Hey little guy," Eridan encourages, holding out his hand for the crab to climb on. It takes him up on the offer, and he smiles as its tiny claws and spindly feet tickle his palm.

Eridan gently carries him up to Karkat, getting in close and raising his hand to both their faces. "He's a cute one, ain't he?" he says close to Karkat's ear. "Wwant to hold him?"

 

Fuck yes. That shouldn't even be a question, this is one of your mini brethren after all. Maybe not as awesomely cool as Sebastian the crab, but then who is? Not even you are as cool as fucking Sebastian the crab, that's just a fact. 

So you nod and look up for a moment, judging your snorkel depth: good enough. You then hold out one hand, and Eridan holds his hand next your yours, and with a little prompting mini crab soon comes over to you. It would be great if you could actually have a nice long talk with him, but crabs are pretty hard to understand actually and even with crabdad you had some significant communication barriers. But still, you know some tricks.

With a crab this mini, of course it wouldn't hurt even if you let him pinch your fingertips with his tiny little claw, at least not much, and of course you'd be fine with that because you're not an overdramatic whiny wiggler like _some_ trolls you could name. But that would be sort of counterproductive to proper cross-cultural crab communication... instead, you let this little guy grab one of your claws with his pincer, and engage in the universal tapping communication technique known to those of your kind. You tap at his shell with the claw on your thumb... in turn, he clicks his little pincers around your claw, a very specific kind of morse code for crabs. You say hello crab, and in turn he says hi hi hi hi hi hi! back at you, all excited (few crabs are known for the breadth of their vocabularies). Next you tap "foraging?" at him and he responds with an enthusiastic yes yes yes yes yes! God he's disgustingly adorable. 

For the next couple minutes, you get caught up on whatever minimal gossip there is to be found in this here coral reef (weather? happy happy happy happy! danger? a little, a little a little, a little. friends? crab and crab and crab and crab and crab and crab. mate? where where where where where?). It seems he's still an adolescent bachelor crab with no mate yet to his name, and is on the hunt. You give him your number one romance tip for crabs, which is "keep looking, badass." He seems to appreciate your romantic genius and fraternal candor, and promises he will, several times over.

As a distraction, this interlude with mini crab here turns out to be perfect... you almost forget Eridan is even there for a while, since crab gossip is extremely important even though it hardly challenges your intellect in any possible way. It's been a while since you had a proper heart-to-heart with a crab, mini or otherwise, and what with all that crabdad nostalgia you were experiencing earlier, this is actually a kind of very emotional moment for you. When you finally _do_ remember Eridan's presence, you have a very real oh shit moment, especially since he caught you in the act of being all idiotic... but of course, there he is, staring at you all adoringly. 

It's kind of too much. You swallow hard, which feels weird with a snorkel in your mouth, and with absolutely no blush whatsoever return your new mini crab dudebro to Eridan, looking around and then imperiously pointing over to a specific type of coral that you know the little guy wants to visit, because he told you. Repeatedly.

 

Could Kar possibly even _get_ any more fuckin adorable? Eridan doesn't think so. Karkat being so intent on his tapping-and-clicking conversation with the little hermit crab has to be the sweetest thing he's seen in a long time. He's not planning on telling Kar so and ruining the moment or anything, but somehow Kar must be able to tell what he's thinking what with that startled reaction. Eridan gently holds the little crab as he follows Karkat's imperious gesture toward the coral. Apparently that's their next destination. 

It's a good one, in Eridan's opinion. An elegance coral, just about the most splendid in the sea, and it so happens to match the tiny crab's pretty violet shell wonderfully. Carefully, he sets the hermit crab down on a likely spot and thanks it softly.

As Eridan tells Kar as they watch the crab settle in and start exploring, this coral's called _elegance_ coral for a reason, all rare and beautiful and simply the upright royalty of all the corals, in Eridan's unapologetically un-humble opinion. This one is large and well-formed, not damaged at all, and Eridan wants to keep it that way. He stares at it with an expression of reverence and wonder, turning to look at Karkat to see if he's appreciating it like he ought. Its violet and electric blue-green smoothly ridged bits are vibrant, all the little pink tendrils equally as alive. Those tiny color-tipped tentacles kind of make Eridan think of Fef... if it wouldn't kill the coral it would make a gorgeous crown for her, the most elegant coral of all. But there's no such thing as a princess anymore, or an empress for that matter. That used to make him sad. And lost. Everything changed, and left him behind.

But today it feels like things have finally started changing for the better. And nice as this coral is, Eridan's finding he'd rather show Kar things he can connect with better, things they can share that don't remind him of Fef. Like the tiny crab. Like... seahorses, maybe.

Eridan squeezes Karkat's hand, then reaches up with his free one to cup his ear. (And if his fingers tangle in the softly waving hair behind it, it's just natural.) "Kar, let's go in a litttle further. I havve to showw you in person how fuckin awwesome seahorses are. Still not as awwesome as skyhorses but you knoww."

He pulls away, smiling, and tugs at Karkat's hand. It's not too far until the coral gives way to a patch of weedy sea grasses on the lagoon floor. Eridan points down, and then motions for Kar to wait for him. At this point he trusts Karkat can swim well enough to stay up there a moment while he goes to check on the seahorses and bring one back up to show Kar. He gives Karkat's hand a last lingering squeeze, brushing his fingers over Karkat's until they part and he makes a dive for the sea grass.

What he sees when he gets there takes all the water from his gills. There are babies clinging to the spindly sea grass strands! Tiny. Little. Fuckin. Seahorse babies. Fuck bringing a seahorse up for Kar, he's going to have to come down and see this! Eridan rushes back up to Karkat, all joyful alarm, waving and pointing down to the tufts of sea grass. But, fuck it all, he really can't contain his excitement and cups his hands to Karkat's face, grinning right into it and nearly tripping over his words as he says, "Babies, Kar! You havve to come see! Can you divve? I'll teach you right fuckin noww if you can't, you havve to see them, they are the most precious tiny things you'll evver see in your wwhole life, please Kar, come on!"

 

Baby seahorses, huh. There is a brief war within your thinkpan as you struggle not to give any shits, because it just seems natural to resist enthusiasm of such a preposterous magnitude... giving shits is dangerous, according to your lifelong curse, and so you attempt to react to Eridan's wiggler-esque enthusiasm with a cautious and mature sort of detached interest... but fuck it, that's just way too fucking hard, because the second that thought occurs to you you have a precognitive mental vision of what would happen if you reacted that way... stupid fragile Eridan feelings would become crushed, and for what? Why? Because you're afraid of a little inevitable curse?

Fuck that shit. You close your eyes and shake your head to yourself in minor self-annoyance, but then look up and meet Eridan's eyes, and nod. Before he has a chance to become puzzled, you point up, and then swim up to the surface, stripping off the snorkel gear as you do so. Eridan joins you topside nearly simultaneously, eyes huge and pleading, all agitated and nearly squirming in impatient excitement. He is only slightly more articulate than your mini crab bro as he trips and tumbles over his words, repeating nearly verbatim what he just said to you underwater, and it's a bit startling since you've never seen him like this before. Eridan immediately puts his hands back on your face, coming up so close that you feel almost breathless, since in most circumstances you'd anticipate a kiss coming on... but that's not it, he's nowhere in kissing mode. Eridan is just too fucking delighted with his baby seahorses, that's all. 

To stop you from having to dwell on stupid Eridan feelings, you sort of shove the snorkeling gear at him. "Hold onto this," you say. And you look down, frowning... it's about, you don't know... three and a half meters down? You decide this is doable. "I won't be able to be down for very long... not more than five minutes, I think." 

Eridan seems perfectly okay with this. He nods, several times, and after hooking the snorkel gear snaps around one arm, takes you by the hand. This requires some more warnings. "Help me get down there, but don't hold on too tight, okay? When I need to surface I'm just going to do it." More things that Eridan is perfectly okay with. He is so, so, so eager to get you down there, to see his precious little baby seahorses. His eyes are shining, full of happiness. It hurts a little, mostly because you're kind of afraid of letting him down... what if you're not as into it as he wants? You don't mind pretending, if you have to, but if you pretend too hard he'll be able to tell, and that would hurt him even more, you think. 

God, fucking hell. This is kind of why no one in their fucking right mind would ever say yes to his redrom advances, in a nutshell... who wants to be the focus for so much unasked-for hopefulness and expectation? No sane person you know, that's for sure.

But it's not like you've ever been especially sane. You decide that you're going to love these fuckers, somehow. Even if they're ugly boring wrinkled little calamari creatures that you'd normally hate. No way they could ever be as cute as that little crab friend he just showed to you, for instance, but you remember how gentle Eridan was, bringing the little guy up to you, giving him and you time to chat, and then setting him down where he wanted to go and giving him a nice little pat in farewell as if he were a close personal friend to all the crabs. You know he did that for you. So... okay, you're pumped up! These fuckers are going to be awesome! You will accept no other outcome!!!

And so down you go... you take a huge, huge breath, and hold it mightily, and speed down in the general direction Eridan wants you to go... he's holding your hand tight enough to guide you, but not so hard you feel the need to fight him, and in seconds you are hovering where he wants you to be, in seahorse nirvana. The sea grasses are waving a bit in the clear waters, and Eridan brings you in closer, closer, pointing excitedly... and you have to squint, because what? Huh? You can't see shit. But then. Wow, there. Hardly any bigger than crusty little specks of dirt, you pretty much have to get your face right in there, and you see them... little wiggly baby thingies, with delicate tails clinging to the grasses, and little horsey heads all bobbing around.

Having seen them properly, you pull your face back, and take a peek over at Eridan. He's staring at his baby seahorse friends with all sorts of crazy adoration shining on his stupid mer-face, but then glances at you with a similar level of recklessly happy joy. See, see? he seems to be saying. You smile, and ache, wishing for a second you could kiss him.., and then nod. You see. You actually do see. 

 

Eridan is satisfied. He could stay there and watch the tiny seahorse wigglers wiggling about in the gently swaying grasses for hours--and probably would if Karkat wasn't here--but he knows Karkat can't do that. At least Kar is getting to see them and their adorabittyness for a few minutes. And that, Eridan realizes, is what's making him this incredibly happy and excited. If he'd come upon them on his own he'd certainly be pleased, but it's the getting to share these tiny new lives with Kar that's got him all worked up. It's goddamn fuckin that much more special. He couldn't have asked whatever powers of the universe for a better day in the reef; it's kind of overwhelming how amazing it all is and how really and truly happy it's making him. 

"Wishin you all the luck, little ones," Eridan says warmly to the tiny speck-like seahorses. He knows they have about as many trials to survive as troll wigglers used to, what with all the other fish thinking they look like tasty morsels and currents washing them unhospitable places and other such dangers. Their seahorse dad isn't as awwesomely amazin as his skyhorse dad was--their dad protected them til hatching but these little ones are on their own from here on out. Kind of makes Eridan want to scoop them all up and raise them himself, try to show them what it was like to have a skyhorse dad, but that's a bloody silly whim. He has nothing to carry them in.

When Karkat lets go and starts swimming up for air, Eridan only hesitates and lingers a moment before following him. Someday he'll pass on all skyhorse dad's sagacious teachings and nurturing legacy to some lucky little seahorses. Right now Kar's got all his attention.

He beams at Karkat once they've both surfaced, then pulls him into a watery embrace. "Thanks, Kar, for makin that divve wwith me," Eridan says, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Wworth it, yeah?" Letting go, he passes the snorkel gear back.

There are so many other things Eridan wants to show Karkat; they've only gotten to explore a tiny fraction of all the wonders the reef holds! But the sun's already starting to sink. Too soon to head back just yet, though... they have time for a little something more out here before they have to swim back to the boat. "There's a lot more to see out here, but wwe wwon't see much once it's dark out," Eridan says, tone clearly regretful as he nods toward the sinking sun. If he puts it in words, maybe he'll convince himself it's a good idea to at least start heading for the atoll. "Wwatch the sunset with me on the beach?"

 

Ahh, jeez Eridan... way to almost drown you! Not that you really mind. You push the gear back at Eridan playfully, and say "all right, but you take this. First one onto the beach gets to chose their penalty game prize!" And then you zip around, and make your best ever effort to make it back... possibly excessively disturbing the delicate reef habitats but you do try to stay away from the corals and so don't bump into anything you shouldn't. 

As doesn't surprise you whatsoever, Eridan beats you to the beach by a pretty hefty margin, even with the gear and you getting your surprise head-start, but it's not like you mind... you scramble into the shallows before the drop-off, and then stand up, posing magnificently while still in the water, kind of showing off. Sometimes, losing is fun. Sometimes, losing is really okay. Being smugly superior even in clear defeat is one of your exceptional personal skills. 

Anyway, after a moment of reveling in your losses, you crack open one eye to take a gander at Eridan. It's hard to read his expression because the sun is at his back, and therefore his face is cast in shadow, but you feel like you can guess the sort of frowny look of disapproval he might be giving you, probably for the sneak race attack or for making it seem like you thought you could possibly win (you never thought that), or for being a loud swimming fiend in the water (you _did_ wait, though, to be clear of the seahorse babies before really kicking into swimming overdrive, and _were_ being culturally sensitive to the corals by making sure not to get anywhere close), but that's kind of okay, you wanted to be a little reckless in a controlled kind of way, and you wanted to give him a penalty prize. 

And whether he's annoyed or doesn't care, you'd like to think you've got that covered too: "Sorry, just couldn't help it. Needed to swim fast otherwise my fucking legs were going to revolt... it just felt like a good idea, all of the sudden. But ha well... I knew you'd win, so guess what? Pick your prize. Anything you want while we're on the beach, so long as it's not absolutely dumbfuck retarded... well, you've got it."

 

Fuckin damn it, it's too hard trying to be all upset at Kar for going a little wild in the reef, and Eridan _was_ trying. That is, up until Karkat went and basically admitted he was getting tired out there. That stirs up enough pity and exasperation in Eridan that he can't help but entirely forgive him for it. If he'd just said that from the start, Eridan would have offered to help him. And then on top of that, Karkat knew the entire time he wasn't about to win the wager he himself made up... Bloody fuckin hell, how is it not supposed to warm Eridan's entire thoracic cavity knowing Kar meant to give him something nice? The view sure is nice too, Karkat all posing like he's the one who's triumphed even though he got so thoroughly beaten, no fuckin joke. It's... well, it's really attractive, is what it is.

Eridan's expression softens and he relaxes, shaking his head at Karkat. He runs both hands through his hair, squeezing out the water, careful of his horns, thinking. Got to make this prize count--just when he thought his day couldn't possibly get any better, Kar has to go and spring this on him. Anything he wants... 

"Wwell..." Eridan says, taking his glasses off to try and get the water off of them, shaking them sharply. His fins are feeling way too hot. The first thought that springs to his mind as to a prize he'd want most desperately is just so not on it's beyond the fuckin pale. Literally. Okay, he has to pay attention to Karkat's ground rule there: nothing too upright idiotic. And something that can be done on the beach. Asking Kar to agree to be his matesprit counts as _supremely_ dumbfuckin retarded, even if it is something that could be done on the beach. He can rule that one right out. It'd feel like cheating something terrible to do that anyway... a matesprit is not a fuckin prize. That's not at all how he wants something that important to ever happen.

He settles his glasses back on his face, finding it a bit hard to look at Karkat all of a sudden. He's got another idea, something he's always wanted to try but never had the chance. Now's his chance. "Say I wwanted to..." Shit, even this is hard to ask for. "Wwell... make out a little underwwater. Wwould that be okay? You can say no. I knoww that'd be pretty upright uncomfortable for you bein as you can't breathe or anythin in there."

Eridan's sort of kicking at the sand, hands on his hips so he's not completely awkward about it. Fuck, what if that's asking too much? It's definitely something he'd always fantasized about doing with a matesprit. But he and Karkat are... like, makeout bro's or something. It's not that weird, right? "Just for a minute can we, Kar?"

 

Yes, that's a great and fucking manly challenge, right there. It's also extremely fucking romantic, and something you kind of have to secretly admit that you've always wanted to try, as well. You barely have to think it over at all, but the way Eridan is awkwardly kicking at the sand makes you want to delay your yes, so you do, just standing there with water up to your waist and thumbing your jaw in pretend contemplation. 

You can only bear doing that for about five seconds though, because it's instantly clear to you that if you delay for any truly prolonged period time it would cause Eridan to become really hesitant, doubting whether or not you really want to do it, and even if he didn't try to take back his request like a loser, he might never end up being convinced that this is something you plan on _thoroughly_ enjoying. So after your five seconds of fake agonizing indecision are up, you wave him over... "Okay," you say, attempting to smirk reassuringly, but mid-smirk you realize that there's no way that a smirk can actually _be_ reassuring, so transition into a more laid-back predatorially reassuring grin instead. "Of course that's okay. Come over here."

Accordingly, Eridan comes over, seeming abashed and eager and nervous. He licks his lips, and comes to stand right in front of you... probably not even paying attention to how his hands sort of naturally reach for your waist, resting softly on your sides just above your hips (and just overtop your bathing suit waistband, directly underwater). You suck in a quick extra breath, and your bloodpusher is thrumming rapidly in your chest as you look up at him, because you experience a very inappropriate lustful desire to just grind up into him. 

Fuck, he can probably even read your illegal desire in your eyes, considering how fucking violet his cheeks and fins are, which you can tell even with the sun at his back. Accordingly, you put your own hands on his waist, resisting the desire to dig your claws under the band of his ridiculously flashy swim trunks, and try to get a hold of yourself. "You know, there's an underwater kiss in troll Romeo and Juliet," you find yourself kind of babbling in a wretchedly irrelevant way. "The one with troll Leonardo and troll Claire Danes," you continue, practically on cinephile autopilot, "with the wings and the gang wars and the music. You know, right?" 

Eridan is leaning in, and murmurs some noise that could either be a yes or a no as he softly presses a kiss into your wet hair, getting romantic all on his own. Wow, okay, yeah... that's exceptionally nice, and steers you back on course... "Well, anyway... how about I just sort of kneel underwater right here, and I'll hold my breath and you... do whatever it is you want to do. Okay?"

 

Eridan kisses Karkat's hair again and gives a soft hum in answer, breathing the damp sea salt and slight coconut scent of him, already ready to get this makeout under water and under way. He's going to just dive in with it, nerves and all--this is less perfectly spontaneical and natural than the glowy cave kiss, but it's no less romantic and meaningful to Eridan. He's going to try making Kar really glad he's giving this to him. 

Karkat sinks to his knees in the soft sand and Eridan follows, holding him close as they both submerge. Kneeling, Eridan's forehead and horns are still above the gentle waves, which isn't what he wanted, so to fully cover himself he stretches and sprawls his legs to either side of Karkat's knees, sitting on the soft sandy bottom. This puts his face a bit lower than Karkat's, so he's the one to be tilting his chin up, stretching his neck to bring their lips together--only a bit, the water bouying him up. Eridan sighs bubbles and then presses his lips to Kar's, all softness and saltwater. His hands slide up Karkat's back to pull him closer; the contrast between the warmth of his skin and the surrounding coolness of the water is delicious. It's tender and dreamlike, this kiss, and everything Eridan fantasized it might be like. Well... aside from the fact that it won't last long.

His bloodpusher aches with it, but Eridan doesn't try to get Kar's lips to part even as he licks and sucks at them, content to just hold him beneath the waves--gently, lightly--and kiss him here where the whole world's disappeared and it's only them. No one else matters. He hopes Kar can feel it.

 

So many new, weird sensations. The main thing you notice is the sense of the water inside Eridan's mouth as he kisses you, taking hold of you loosely and gently toying with the bow of your lips using his own lips and tongue, even as you kneel before him in a keyed-up state, eyes squeezed shut and lips primly pursed while you very, very sparingly release bubbles of expired air through your nose. Instead of his body moving with the rhythms of normal breathing, you can feel the faint continual flow of water suctioning inward, an almost tickly feeling on your skin.

The nicer it feels, the tougher it is to stand. You become increasingly tense, holding yourself nearly rigid to keep from spewing out air in a gush and then hastily surfacing, because the teasing sweet nature of these kisses really makes you want to respond. Eridan really seems to be enjoying himself, and it makes you feel fuzzy and happy all over to know you can give this to him, with also a strange furious itch to make sure no one else gets to experience this with him. Perhaps you could extract a promise from him; don't do this kiss with anyone else but me? 

Hah. Fuck. It would be so great if you could. But you know what you'd need to concede, to ask for such a thing.

Being serious about feelings is fucking _hard_. If you didn't care about hurting him, or if you were more reckless with your own, this would be solved by now... the tension between you two could have been released by now, very easily. But, well, shit. Feelings are the kindling of great romance, and so too is any amount of sexual frustration and longing. Might as well enjoy this sweet torture for what it is. At least until you run out of breath to burn.

 

Eridan could keep lavishing tender underwater kisses on Karkat, wants to, but he can feel the increasing tenseness in Karkat's shoulders beneath his hands and has noted each little escape of air from Karkat's nose. It's about time to end it and let Kar breathe again.

Gently, he guides Karkat up and helps him find his feet, still kissing him until the last moment under the water. Eridan pulls back as they break the surface to allow Karkat to catch his breath. God, he's fuckin beautiful. Careful with his claws, Eridan wipes the water from Karkat's eyes, smoothing back his sodden hair. 

"That wwas... wwonderful," Eridan says, his voice a bit watery. It's just the brine still in his tubes, at least that's what he's going to go on believing. No point in getting overemotional. It's amazing Kar's been as forgiving of Eridan's excesses as he has thus far... kiss in point. Prize or no, that was so fuckin flushed. Eridan feels the blood rushing to his face again as he realizes a whole bunch of his kisses have been pretty obviously flushed for a while now. But Kar hasn't said anything, so maybe he hasn't noticed. Or he's okay with it.

Kar likes him and that's a fact. Just like Eridan lovves him and that, too, is a fact he just has to live with, whether or not his feelings are returned the same way. It's wonderful and painful at the same time.

Planting one last damp kiss to the corner of Karkat's mouth, Eridan pulls away entirely. He nods in the direction of the beach for Karkat to follow, turning to walk out of the surf, needing a moment on his own to re-collect himself.

No day in his entire life has been this amazingly good. Focus on that, don't even think about what it's going to feel like when it's over. Just savor every single upright miracle that comes.

Eridan turns to reach a hand back to Karkat, an oddly bittersweet yet serene smile on his face. "Wwill you sit wwith me under the palms and wwatch the sun settin?"

 

You almost trip over yourself scrambling forward to grab Eridan's hand, flushing almost immediately afterwards because what the hell, there's no rush. But the way Eridan loped off, deliberately walking ahead of you for several paces made you swallow, and you felt oddly, absurdly bereft. Just for one single, ridiculous moment, but still.

It's easy to collect your composure, however. "Sure," you say, with a bit of a shrug, sort of laying it on thick with the calculated casualness to act as a counter for your momentary lapse into awkwardness. With any luck, Eridan didn't even notice at all. It's all a big complicated balancing act, because after you counter the awkwardness with casualness, you need to strategically circle back and similarly counter the casualness with a warm smile, just to make sure he doesn't take your casualness for indifference or any similar bullshit. You also squeeze his hand, tugging him back until he matches your pace, ambling more slowly towards the line of palm trees up ahead.

When you arrive at the trees, you point down and tell Eridan to sit down first; he seems a bit confused by your requirement but complies, and you stand by with your arms crossed, overseeing his sitting procedures quietly and approvingly, since he sits in a way that will be convenient for you to exploit, all sitting up straight with his back up against the trunk of the palm tree, and his legs spread out causally in front of him... leaving just the perfect room for you to step in between his legs, and then lie down right into the sand, curling up on your side in the space afforded while leaning your cheek on his thigh, up close to (but not touching) his bone bulge area.

It's really the perfect position for watching the sun set; and it's also something that would be a lot harder for him to do comfortably in return, because of how tall he is. Satisfied with yourself and your current situation, you nuzzle his thigh with your cheek, closing your eyes (so what? He can't tell you've closed your eyes-- you're almost entirely positive). It's weird. You never were like this with him before, obviously, but it just feels so natural and needful now, and you sort of think it would feel stranger if you weren't being like this with him right now.

"I think I'll stay for a few more days," you say, or rather announce, since what he is going to do, say you can't? You don't think so. As soon as you say this, something inside of you eases, something you hadn't even realized was clenched tight. It's a feeling of _rightness_ , and it relaxes you, in part because you suddenly just know that it will relax Eridan too, but also in part because you realize that you've made a decision to stay until you've clarified to your own satisfaction just what, exactly, is going on here. Because something obviously is. "I assume that's fine."

 

"That's... yeah, that's great, Kar. Stay as long as you wwant," Eridan answers in startled wonder. How the fuckin hell did he even _get_ so lucky? How is all this real and true and not some cruelly vivid dream? Eridan swallows, looking down at Karkat all curled up and snuggled into his thigh. He's there, all right, warm and damp and, okay, Eridan's kind of glad he's not actually touching his bone bulge area or it'd be too much for him not to be aroused by it. As it is, Kar's just being really sweet, just cuddling, and it's... perfect. 

Eridan's not even watching the sun, staring instead at the warm light bathing Karkat in a soft orange glow and how deep and grey the shadows are in the spaces it doesn't touch. He reaches down and buries a hand in Karkat's hair, carefully picking apart seawater-sopped tangles and making them curl around Kar's auricular cartilage nubs. Without even knowing it, Kar just gave him something even more to hope for. The end of this day isn't the end of his time with Kar. He can make tomorrow just as amazing and perfect, and the next day, and the next. Live a little while longer being stupidly happy. 

He sighs, long and contented, feeling his whole body relax with it. The tree takes his weight, bark deliciously rough against his skin, the sand giving softly beneath him. Karkat could go on assuming Eridan wants him to stay, on and on, and he'd be right. For a moment he considers asking if Kar won't miss Ter, but decides not to. What if reminding him of his matesprit makes him reconsider? Later he can let Kar use his husktop again if he wants to talk to her.

For a long time Eridan just runs his fingers through Karkat's hair, enjoying quiet cuddling time as the sun slowly sinks lower and lower, drawing longer and darker shadows over Karkat's smooth skin and the white sand beach. He lets it slip away without regret. Tomorrow will be another bright day with Kar.

"Wwe should probably be headin back before the sun's gone entire," Eridan says quietly, not wanting to disturb Karkat. They don't have to leave just yet. "An wwhen wwe get back wwe can settle in nice an wwatch all our movvies. ...An I wwant you to pick wwhat our plans are for tomorroww, since you did all the things I wwanted an all today."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some kind of asshole rumpus in here, looks like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herongale here... I got a very sweet note on my Tumblr ask in regards to the use of the term "retard" or "retarded" when writing Karkat, and the person asking was very kind in expressing their concerns, so I added some tags to reflect the fact that this story contains slurs, and I'm adding a note here now to explain the rationale. When I tend to fall in love with characters, the ones I tend to like best are almost always problematic at the very least, and even the good guys I like tend to have some important character flaws/weaknesses/areas of ignorance and blindness which are a part of why I like them so much, even if they frustrate me at times. 
> 
> Karkat is like this. He's got a terrible potty mouth and also I think that his vulgarity gets pretty problematic at times, and there's this unpleasant tinge of ableism and misogyny to his character when I feel was put in there intentionally by Hussie. When I write his parts I try to stay faithful to all of that, even the really gross stuff, cuz writing is most fun for me when I am writing the characters as I see them, warts and all. I don't really feel like I want to gloss over that aspect of his personality when writing him, so all I can do is simply beg your indulgence and point out, very firmly, that I do NOT support the use of such language and would never say some of the things Karkat does, not even when amongst friends. Depiction is NOT endorsement, especially in this case.
> 
> \----

Huhuuuuhh-mmm.... what?

Considering that it's got to be physically impossible to doze off while hopped up on as much caffeine as you doused yourself with earlier, you absolutely positively do not startle into an awakened state at the subdued sound of Eridan's voice, since that would be utterly preposterous. Nope no siree boppity fuck. No squiddle de do. No fucker de fuckbert. As this sticky slurry of human nonsense oozes its way through your thinkpan, you blink your eyes open and immediately start frowning into the offensively beautiful sunset, trying to recapture the thread of conversation you pretty much completely ignored the first pass through. Something about "movies" and "plans," you decide. Okay, that's cool. You're fine with both movies and plans. 

Muzzily, you nod your face into Eridan's thigh, and then with lazy entitled strokes you trace soft little meaningless designs into the skin of Eridan's thigh with your fingertips. It's sort of fascinating how smooth and refined his body is, you decide, following up your dermatographic impulses with tiny smooches over the imaginary doodles on his leg. "All the plans," you say agreeably, making sure to kiss him a few more times in between each contented-sounding murmur and sigh that tumbles from your lips. "All the movies." It's kind of like a zen warrior koan, you think approvingly to yourself. Perhaps that should be your new personal credo. Plans And Movies Vantas. That's you.

After a few moments of this, you roll over onto your belly into the sand, which gives you a better angle from which to kiss the inside angle of Eridan's inner thigh, flashing your gaze up at him briefly before going back into kissing mode. You very pointedly do not look at the area of Eridan's bone bulge which is only barely adequately covered with gaudy swimwear, letting your vision go slack and lidding your eyes in an impressive approximation of lazed indifference, seeming to be careless and heedless in your continued kissing but actually being rather tactical about it, since you still are very aware of the fact that there need to be limits and that you have not actually gotten around to setting them, yet. But in this quiet state of mind and body that Eridan petted you into, you figure you've got at least a minute of benign equanimity before things go shithive maggots into ludicrously debauched madness.

Once you're satisfied that you've taken yourself exactly as far with this as it's decent to go, you sigh and then pull away, now looking up at Eridan properly from the general vicinity of his lap. "If it's too much kissing, just say so," you say solemnly, examining Eridan's flustered, flushed face carefully. "Okay?"

 

Oh. Oh wwoww, okay, this is already a little overwhelming, but that doesn't mean Eridan wants Karkat to stop. Actually, he really _really_ would like him to keep doing that, being all tender and lavishing soft touches and kisses to his thigh. His skin is sort of tingling where Karkat's fingers and lips touched so tenderly, and his face is definitely burning bright violet, and... well, what troll _wouldn't_ be feeling kind of really turned on by having his flushcrush looking up at him from between his legs like that?! Eyes all lidded and looking so relaxed and content... well, and serious, at the moment.

Eridan swallows thickly. He knows he's staring wide-eyed down at Karkat, but he can't fuckin help it. His fingers are still buried in Karkat's hair, and fuck if it doesn't look the very picture of a very hot fantasy. Okay. Okay, no. Eridan squeezes his eyes shut hard and then opens them again, trying to focus. Kar's expecting an answer, after very respectfully taking his feelings into consideration here. It makes his bloodpusher ache, that Kar is telling him upright and straight-out that he can say if it's too much. It keeps aching, hard and sudden, as Eridan realizes what he wants most is not to have to say anything. Just let Karkat go as far as he pleases, kiss as much as he wants, do...more... but he can't put those feelings into words. Not without potentially wrecking everything, and Eridan would well and truly rather not end this glorious day with a shattering rejection.

So he nods. Spreads his legs a little further apart, just so Kar's comfortable. He'll say if the kissing gets to be too much. Where that line is, Eridan doesn't really know exactly... somewhere before he gets so turned on he starts dripping more than just water and before he's so excited his fancy swimming pants are in danger of not being able to hold him in. Somewhere before things go where he only wants a matesprit to go.

Oh, who the fuck does Eridan think he's kidding here? Not himself. This whole day, every little experience--it's all been one huge fantasy matesprit date. With Kar. Somewhere before things went into flushed territory for Eridan would be somewhere before this day even began.

Well, okay, Eridan can take a little dose of reality. He can say when it's too much. He can do that, because already this is way more than he could have hoped for, more than he really deserves. How is Kar even this amazing? How's Eridan even supposed to take all this actual affection--'cause this is real, isn't it? Karkat wouldn't be so goddamn sweet to him if he didn't mean it; he's not that kind of guy. But then Eridan's never been very good at reading others and intertranslating their feelings. He can't assume; he'd just make an ass of himself. Not even with the ghost of Kar's lips still lingering on the inside of his thigh, he can't go letting himself get carried away thinking it means Kar might be even a little red for him.

Eridan clears his throat and focuses on gently smoothing down tufts of Karkat's hair that are starting to dry. "I'll say, Kar. Promise. And if you wwant to stop at any time then you fuckin do that too."

 

Carefully, you nod, before swallowing hard and feeling your entire body shiver. "Sure," you manage to affirm, trying to sound as casual as possible about it. Nevertheless, you find yourself closing your eyes involuntarily, and you tilt your chin upwards when Eridan goes back to petting your hair-- also involuntarily. He... well. Wow. Eridan's just disgustingly responsive, okay? Responsive and obvious and so, so fucking transparent. An open fucking book, basically. Makes it kind of imperative to respond in kind. "I'm gonna... I've got to... it's important then, to... even things out." With searching fingers, you grope at the tender inside lines of Eridan's opposite thigh, being very gentle and soft about it since that's what feels right, right now, with him. "Like, it's symmetry. An important kissing principle. See?"

As you mouth the word "see," you blindly bend down to press your lips into the area you'd just been tracing, the sweet unkissed territories of Eridan's other leg. You continue to shiver very slightly all over, shuddering a bit when your fire-warm lips make contact with Eridan's smooth, damp but drying cool skin. Oh, that's good. Oh, that's fucking stupendous and stupendously good. He's good. You're good. You're both good. All this is fucking tremendous and good and you yourself personally are so _unbelievably awesome_. You just are. After a few small, careful, sluggishly lust-filled kisses, you bat your eyes open for a moment, peeking up at Eridan's face, pausing and wordlessly checking in. Continue? Yes, it seems like it's still fine to do that.

"So, okay, like... perfect symmetry is boring," you murmur back into his leg, favoring him with a minor flurry of pristine, considered-to-be-adorable-by-experts (Terezi) kisses. To prove your point, you slide down a moment, going outside of your target range to place one perfect, triumphant little kiss on the inner aspect of Eridan's bent-up knee, which is a kiss you kind of have to work for and therefore is not one you are eager to repeat, but that's okay, it was a sort of inspired little diversion and also a part of your spontaneously informative exercise. Again you look up, a wordless question in your eyes as you find yourself in a faint, quiet little pant. Still continue? Yeah, still seems fine for now. 

"The number one priority that trumps symmetry is fun, and also being spontaneous." Okay, that's actually two priorities, but who fucking cares. You lovingly apply more black-belt level kisses in an uneven, jagged lightning-shaped line up the inside of his thigh, slowing as you approach forbidden territories and stalling just before you reach some difficult-to-define but clearly real point of no return. Feelings, strange not-entirely-unfamiliar feelings are welling up inside you; you'd name these feelings "helplessly overwhelming fondness" if you were in a naming-things mood, but you're not, right now it's only for kissing tutorial infomercials and... and... fuck, you look up again. Eridan's really shaking a lot now. You probably should stop.

"Uhhh ffff... _anyway_ ," you mutter, biting your lower lip in a new, weird sense of frustration, as you force yourself to quit kissing and to just sort of nuzzle your face into his thigh again, pressing in hard, hard, harder, pressing until your face is buried and your breathing is occluded and you just hold it, your breath you mean, getting all overwhelmed yourself, just going for as long as you can tolerate until you need to gasp for air, which means you need to turn your head, pressing your cheek on his leg and then shyly, somewhat disgusted with yourself but also keen on pretending that you're not, looking upwards with a warning little frown and growl. "Um, yeah, we should probably get going. In a sec."

 

Eridan nods, knowing if he says anything it'll come out as a strangled whine instead of real words. In a sec is real good. He needs a sec or more to calm the hell down a little. As it is, he's shaking so bad there's probably no way he'd be any good for swimming it back to the boat.

It's hard. It's hard being aroused and trying not to be, all in Kar's face. 

It's kind of embarrassing, just how turned on he is just from being pretty chastely kissed--though, okay, he _was_ being chastely and tenderly kissed in places he's never actually had anyone else even touch before. His inner thighs, the crook of his knee... even just Karkat's cheek pressed to his thigh now is a bit much for his oversensitized skin.

Not that he's gonna make him move. That growl and frown have Eridan a little nervous. Making Karkat move might upset him more. Was it something Eridan did? Maybe he _should_ make him move--what if Kar's upset over the fact his bulge is starting to peek out its sheath just a little? It really is just a little, and there's not a whole lot he can do about it, try as he might, but it also is pretty much right in Karkat's face. Or maybe he's mad Eridan didn't say anything about his lesson yet? 

Eridan still doesn't trust his voice. But Kar said being spontaneous, and fun, and... symmetrical--that was good. So maybe if Eridan shows his appreciation in a fun and spontaneous and symmetrical way Kar will smile?

Very gently, very carefully, Eridan moves the fingers in Karkat's hair to barely trace just the tip of one sweet, nubby little horn. He doesn't want to be too forward about this. Then, just so Kar knows it was deliberate, and also for symmetry's sake, he does the same to the other horn. There's a small, wondering smile on his face as he gives Karkat's head one more soft pat before taking his hand away. Nobody's a better teacher than Kar, and he hopes Kar knows there's nobody else he'd rather be learning all this romantical stuff from.

 

Arghhhh oh fuck, you can _smell_ it. His arousal, you can fucking smell it, and it's delicious and disturbing and pretty much serves as the exact opposite of putting on the brakes re: your own state of excitation and turned-on-edness. With Terezi you learned to be really fucking spectacular at giving "blow jobs" (yes, that's the fucking human term for them, and no, you don't care that you've fucking "appropriated" it, she uses it all the goddamn time), and so of course your immediate instinctual and near-groaning desire is to get your mouth up in there and sort of mouth your way all over Eridan's stupid speedos, being really sexy and turned on about it since that happens to be one of your secret special particular kinks and all. 

But no, fuck, that is seriously not okay, not without having an understanding beyond that of being kissing bros anyway. Maybe you need to really seriously contemplate coming to such an understanding. Like, it didn't take you fucking long at all to get into this sort of really comfortable position with Eridan, it just all feels so natural, nice, and... right. Really, really right. Way more "right" than the fumbling experimentation you tried and failed at with Jade, and way _way_ more right than the kind of dumb but enjoyable, easy smooching sessions you get to with your darling-ass fucking idiot morail, who is for sure sexy and easy-going and it's not awkward, never that, but well... it's a morail thing with Gamzee, and there it just feels more about comfort and connection, and not like... desperate and needy or anything. Like this.

And then well fucking hell, Eridan just cautiously and minutely gropes at your horns, a gesture that is fucking overflowing with all sorts of stupid Eridan feelings, right down to his literalistic interpretation of your lesson which manifests in the exactitude of his symmetrical touches, which are perfectly the same in terms of how long he gropes and the pressure and areas of your horns that he nervously, worshipfully touches. God, fucking _fuck_ , you can seriously feel all that flagrant worship right through his fingertips, right down into the schlocking travesty of dumb nubby horns you have to live with every fucking day of your fucking accursed life. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Fuucccckk.

You just totally groan, really loud and with lots of abandon. And then you are smashing your face into his leg again, and it takes every particle of willpower you possess not to up and bite into his delectable, virginal previously-untouched flesh. You could seriously do it and that would be so, so hot. But you won't and that is fucking _frustrating_ , and it's not even in that good way where you get to feel morally superior about it, since it sort of vaguely occurs to you that if you'd established an "understanding" previous to now, you could be doing more, much more, going _all the way_ , and you so want to, you... really, really want to. Buuuuuttt..... yeah, fuck. No. Matesprits. That's the only understanding that's really possible here, with him, right? The only one. And can you? Could you? Do you want that?

You just do not fucking know. It's a lot of pressure, okay? Way too much pressure even for one magnificent hatched leader such as yourself.

"Shit," you growl, and spit (not literally, just like... vocal spit). "Shit, oh god, shit. _Fucking hell_." With the only scrap of composure remaining inside of you, you sort of balkingly retreat, pulling back from his leg in a scattershot, drunken-seeming manner, dropping your face into the sandy beach between Eridan's legs instead and sort of rocking a bit from side-to-side, cheek to the soft sand, long ruddy rays of waning sunset warming your air-dried body while gusts of sea breeze cool it, cooling you, but not exactly cooling you off. Shit. "Too turned on," you complain bitterly, to no one and everyone, loudly. "Damn it all, fuck, no fair, this is _too fucking hot_." 

You'd call foul except it's all your own damn fault and you know it.

 

"So fuckin hot, Kar," Eridan agrees, voice wavering as he breathes the words out in a rush. That whole _everything_ was hot. God, that fuckin loud groan Kar made when he touched his horns--after he was so upright careful not to go too far with it too--that groan is still kind of reverberating in Eridan's bulge area. It is a damn good thing Karkat's lying on the sand now instead of touching him at all anymore.

It's kind of actually a huge relief, too, knowing Karkat's frustrated over being too turned on himself and not over anything Eridan did or didn't do. A relief and a wonder--Eridan didn't do anything at all except just be kissed all the way up until that bit of well-intentioned horn caressin, and still it was hot to Kar. And that is going right to Eridan's head. Does that mean _he's_ hot to Kar? He knows he's aesthetically pleasing, damn sexy even, but, well... nobody else has exactly shared that view of him in a really long time. 

Fuck, Kar is right, it is _really_ not fuckin fair that they have to stop now. But he can't risk asking the question sticking in his protein chute. His sexy package isn't all there is to Eridan, and he knows it's the rest that's the likely deal breaker. Eridan will just deal with the frustration until it subsides, wait it out and keep his mouth shut, enjoy the last rays of light this day has to offer. He breathes deeply, or tries to anyway, gulping at the air like it's clean salty water. That's it. At least now he's not shaking all to bits.

Eridan swallows, smiling down at Karkat. "Maybe the wwater wwill help cool us off." They have to get back in anyway if they're ever going to make it back to the boat before full dusk makes it harder to navigate. Maybe if they just sit in the shallows for a bit first... "Come on. Movvies ain't gonna wwatch themselvves."

 

Yeah. Yeah. That's right. Ugghh fuck. That's it, you two need to get moving. Achingly, with a really full and squirming bulge that you are not even going to bother to hide atm, you slowly, slowly turn over onto your back, staring up at the darkening deep blue sky for a second before tilting your head upwards, glancing cautiously at Eridan who is staring at you all fucking turned-on and adoring-like, which makes you blush grossly and which in turn causes you to sort of hopelessly reach up to cover your face with your hands. "Yeahhh, movies," you mumble sort of stupidly. God, movies are going to be _hard_ , aren't they? Like, assuming you two get all up into cuddling with each other which after all is at least half of the point of watching movies together to begin with. Damn.

But despite flagrant embarrassment, you also feel a kind of weird sense of relief, since well you just went ahead and got all obvious with how turned on you are feeling, and the world didn't end, and there wasn't any kind of tragic breakdown of Eridan feelings either. In fact, he seems to be holding it together somehow and you really, really appreciate that, since it shows he's encountered some important emotional growth during his alone time out here, communing with the seahorses and such. 

Yeahhh. You nod a little, to yourself, still covering up your face in a strange sense of turned-on shame. Something kind of important did just happen, you decide. It feels good to not be really playing any games about the turned-on aspect of this, being honest about how ridiculously horny (ugh "hah," stupid human sexiness pun) you can get with him around. Maybe there was always a little bit of this going on, with him, to some obscured, attenuated degree... you think maybe you always were a little bit really into him, probably. 

Anyway. Cold water, good. Aching with thwarted, demonically persistent desire, you sit up, and in a moment of petulant sexy vengeance you scoop up the dumb snorkeling gear that you'd carelessly dropped into the sand earlier, and twist around to dump it right in front of Eridan's bulge (which now you notice is kind of throbbingly and squirmingly obvious, too). You try not to look too hard, but you feel your cheeks burn even more grotesquely red and whatever, you lick your lips too. Yep, you are seriously one cool fucking douche, aren't you, Karkat Vantas? There does not exist an ocean in the universe big enough to dissolve all of your sarcastic self-critical scorn... it all would just precipitate out under a supernatant of universal indifference. Stupid. So, so stupid.

"You take care of that," you mumble in a voice that sounds way too thick and unsteady. "I'll, um..." Slowly, you stand and kind of sway, lurching towards the ocean, looking off at Eridan's anchored sailboat, which appears to be way too far away. "... mm, get cooled off, yeah." Really suave and hot, sure: not. You swallow, and kind of turn to look back at Eridan, who is standing now too, all your stuff cradled up in one arm. It _aches_ just to look at him, really. You decide that you need to take some time to look for Gamzee online before movies start proper. And maybe yell at Feferi for a bit since clearly getting you and Eridan all sexy-like together was her plan all along. Your jaw tightens, you know you look gloomy and irritated, but well... human jesus. Fuck. 

"Here," you add, thrusting out one hand towards him, trying not to sound too resentful about it because really you just want the contact and that should be allowed, right? Even in a moment like this? "Come on, let's go." You feel a bit weirdly choked up somehow, too. God, fuck, you seriously missed him, you can tell, and you can feel it hitting you anew. "Um, I really like your reef, Eridan. Yeah. So... shut up and let's swim back."

 

"Kar, howw can I shut up if I havven't evven said a wword yet?" Eridan smiles as he takes Karkat's offered hand, squeezing it gently. Maybe a little lighthearted ribbing will snap Kar out of his sudden embarrassed, irritated gloominess. It's all he can think of to do... well, all he can think of to do that he's willing to do. If he were a troll of lesser personal conviction he'd go ahead and say screw it--and screw Kar good. But that's not even an option, much as they both obviously want it, not unless Kar magically becomes his matesprit in the next few minutes. Since that's fakey fake bullshit, it's not happening.

"I havve a feww more I wwant to say, then I'll shut up," Eridan says as they walk unsteadily toward the water, and fuck, he can't be tearing up a bit, not when both his hands are occupied. That's unfairness upon unfairness right there. He blinks and smiles. "Thanks for sayin you liked my reef. That makes me so fuckin happy..."

So goddamn fuckin happy he can't even finish talking. He knows Karkat wouldn't be saying that unless it was true. And the fact that the most important person to Eridan liked the most important place to him is overwhelming him all over again, only this time with joy, which feels weird and warm and bouyant, like it could burst his vasculars.

"This wwhole day, Kar... I havven't been this happy since I wwas a wwiggler. Havve I mentioned that to you yet, cause I been thinkin it a lot all day long." He's been thinking that and a lot of other things he knows he's been really careful not to mention, but this at least is something he feels he can share with Karkat that's safe and good. Safe and good and happy; this day has been just as wonderful if not more so than any day on the beach back when he and Fef were wigglers together. And now that he really seriously thinks about it, Eridan realizes--he's really glad it was Kar he got to share it with. "So. Yeah. Thanks for that. Okay, I'm done noww, shuttin up."

They've reached the water's edge now, and Eridan wades carefully in, not letting go of Karkat's hand. The water feels slightly cooler than it did before, without the sun warming it as much as earlier. It's clear and refreshing. Eridan gives Karkat a nod, keeping his word to stay quiet now while also trying to let Kar know he'll wait for him to be ready. Then they can swim for it together.

 

"Wow, so irritating," you pronounce, complain, whine, accuse, all while forcing yourself to glare at Eridan's stupid happy face, but the glare bears negligible weight and your words carry all the wrong kind of tone, since your resentful gloominess doesn't seem to be coming across at all. 

Instead, your normally harsh voice sounds soft to your acoustical nubs, and you can feel the muscles of your face relax into a sort of aggrieved but fond exasperation, and well even his disobedient bullshit can't really piss you off, since you do on various occasions actually prefer to be a force for good in this world, and making confirmed douchebags like Eridan Ampora so happy that they just babble on in any kind of particularly pointless way is actually a good thing, in your opinion. An opinion that is super educated, genius, and largely perfect and correct. 

So well, okay, whatever. You sigh a bit, and then bump your shoulder into his, casually moving to maybe sort of snuggle closer to him, side-to-side, while the two of you wriggle your toes in the cooling surf and take the few steps it takes before the water is up to your hips. Just a few steps more and there'll be the precipitous drop-off, so it's from here you'll have to cool off and get all collected and ready for swimming. "I'm glad it was a happy day for you, though," you say, sort of piously, since you really do mean it, it's cool that you were able to give him the gift of wiggler-like happiness. "Not that it's actually over yet." You sort of tilt your chin up slightly, puffing up in a kind of grave, dignified kind of pride that is in no way marred by your continued sexy agonies, which have been somewhat cooled-off but not really cured by the comfortably tepid tropical water lapping against your skin. It is possible that you clear your throat a bit, and maybe unleash a tastefully self-conscious little cough (the sort you learned from movies). "My day has been actually pretty fucking great too, I guess, since we're sharing feelings and shit." 

Now you swallow. Yeah, okay, fine, what the fuck, you just feel pretty much awkward now. Since actually none of the words you just said had any real point, and there is actually more you need to say, and at least one thing you absolutely have to say _right now_ , because you know if you don't do it now, you'll never say it, and that would make any interactions between you from here on out unnecessarily difficult and restrained. It's mostly... well, mostly that you need to acknowledge what is actually happening here. Not all the way, not straight-on, but... you've played pretend before, and it doesn't work. You've played cool and above-it-all and that doesn't work either. You've played jealous and you've played idiot and you've played emotional disasterpiece theater overlord, and they're all failed romantical strategies and eventually you learned the cold, hard, difficult-as-fuck truth: posturing fails. Posturing is no good. You need to say what's real, even if what's real is exceedingly stupid and embarrassing. Because that's what real romance is. 

And what's going on now? Is at least some kind of measure of romance.

It's just that there's only one problem, which didn't stop being a problem just because you are getting all cuddly and kissy with him and stuff: you don't want to hurt him. A hurt Eridan is a really difficult-to-handle Eridan, and so you can't lead him on or ply him with promissory hopes unbacked by solid, reliable, unchangeable feelings of your own. And you're still not sure what you want. It honestly hadn't even occurred to you that this emotional/sexiness shit might be on the table before planning this visit, you're almost totally sure (a tiny voice in your head whispers that maybe this is not _entirely_ truthful, but you've learned to ignore the goody-goody fake virtuous voice of hindsight, which always looks back on your past in the most uncharitable light... Jade told you that this is no good, that you shouldn't be succumbing to that kind of dumb shit. So you don't, or rather, you try not to). 

You guess you can't say much. Which leaves you with something vague and unsatisfying but at the very least, safe: "So, Eridan... I guess this all feels kind of, well... flirty, don't you think?" You close your eyes, swallow hard, once again. Awkward. "It feels kind of flirty to me. And... well, I don't mind." Really, supremely awkward. "I mean, I don't mind, if you don't mind. You know?"

 

"No. I mean yes. Fuck, I mean no I don't mind an yes it feels really fuckin flirty." Eridan's eyes are wide and his bloodpusher's racing in his chest, and there is just no way this day could be any more amazing. For a second there he was scared Kar was about to say it felt really flirty and could you just stop, Eridan? Like everyone does. But... he's okay with it. He noticed and he's not brushing off Eridan's advances, and he's even flirting back, isn't he? And yeah it's just flirting and not anything solid, but it's still incredible and wonderful and oh god it's suddenly really hard to breathe.

"Kar, just so wwe're crystal clear, it's kind of a... a reddish kind of flirtin... yeah? Not pale or black or anythin, but... real ruddy." He swallows hard, gripping Karkat's hand a little too tight. "An that's okay?"

There. That's as close as Eridan can come to voicing his feelings for Karkat right now. He just hopes against all hope that they're flirting for the same quadrant. It feels like it, but... but what if? It's all Eridan doesn't need, ending up trying to woo Kar for the wrong quadrant; he has had enough shitty experience to know that whatever he wants, it's not _that_.

 

"Of course it's not black, you dumb dumb!!! What are you even thinking?!" Gosh, that idiotic retardedness of his is so bracing, it's positively refreshing. You feel yourself exhale sharply, in some kind of defensively flustered relief. You don't even try for snatching your hand back, even though Eridan's squeezing it way too hard, staring at you with such alarmed desperate hopefulness it's actually fairly alarming in turn. Damn, you are _so_ fucking glad you played it cool and didn't say anything more evocative than what you actually said... look at how over-the-top he's being over just a little confirmation of some regular, easy fucking flirting. Fuck it all to fucking hell.

Which of course stabs your poor abused bloodpusher something fierce to think about. Eridan's many feelings are his biggest calamity, the heaviest fucking dead albatross tied tight across his neck. So you just kind of stare at him for a moment, mouth wide open in the kind of disbelief that you hope is letting him know that of fucking _course_ this has all been red flirting, which is going to serve as the appropriate kind of urgent underlining to helpfully add emphatic emotional emphasis to the words, the blessed, very fucking true, _actionable_ words you are about to say really loudly right up in his fucking douchy good-looking kissable mer-faced grill: "It is fucking red flirting, _of course_. I hope to fucking fuck that my exceptionally fucking sexy moves could not be interpreted in any other way, you idiot!!" 

You're actually kind of incensed about this, but in a good way. After taking something of a quick, offended breath, you continue, ramping up the volume. "... And another thing! Don't doubt my troll Cassanova Romeo credentials ever again! Jesus, Eridan, give me a serious break already!!"

Any maybe you don't look it, but hell, you feel so, so good right now. So relieved and so good. You were in fact right: honesty (even stupid awkward honesty) is seriously the best policy, and you are scientifically proven to be a romance fucking champion and actually New Alter-Earth's perma-pantheon romance god. You, Karkat Vantas, are in charge of all the romance here, from now until fucking forever, the end. After some very relaxing, enjoyable fuming where you practically can feel wisps of smoke rising from your body and puffing out of your ventilatory shafts, you get into a nice, tight, perfect as hell posture of righteous indignation as you stare up at his Douchefulness and dare him to suggest that this flirting could possibly have even the slightest taint of any flavor of anything other than red. You fucking _dare_ him.

 

Eridan's entire face is burning bright violet and there's a grin so wide it's painful stretching his cheeks, even as Karkat continues to yell and fume at him. It's red, really and truly and unquestionably red flirting, and that is all Eridan needed to hear. 

"Yeah, I'm an upright idiot, Kar. Of course you're the sexiest an the hottest an the expertest Romeo a romance evver, so just... shut up." 

And now that it's definitely fine to flirt, Eridan doesn't even think twice about giving in to the impulse to tangle Karkat up in his arms--albeit awkwardly what with the snorkel gear Eridan's still holding on to and all--and kiss him right on his indignant scowling lips. It's quick and enthusiastic and sloppy, and it's not long before Eridan pulls back breathless. Just one kiss. It's a thank you and a sincere flushed overture and it's full of relief and happiness and all the emotions Eridan can't cram a lid on at the moment. He could smother Kar in kisses, but that might be too much too soon, and not exactly the way to avoid being overbearing.

So Eridan lets go of Karkat and takes a step back, over the edge, dousing himself. With just his head above water, he reaches up to take hold of one of Karkat's hands again, and brings it gently to his lips. One kiss. Two. Three for good measure. See, he can be restrained... sort of.

 

Hmph. There is a rule, one which you laid down from pretty much the first time you ever spoke to Eridan, and which has remained a rule to this very day, which is this: the only one allowed to say "shut up" between the two of you is you, because of how unbelievably derailing he is and shit. 

But on account of really hot kissing prowess, you decide to silently and permanently amend this unassailably logical and perfect regulation with a stipulatory codicil wherein Eridan Ampora is given a pass for calling on you to shut up if (and only if!) he takes it upon his personage to shut you up orally (and no, you don't mean by using words). This is a good bit of legislaceration, totally awesome and immediately actionable.

Nevertheless... 

"The only one who needs to shut up here is you, you mer-moron," you grump out-loud, voice faint and a bit strangled and harsh as fuck, as Eridan swans about in the deeper water just beyond where you stand, holding onto your hand and kissing it sweetly, several infuriatingly sexy times. "You don't get to butter me up with all sorts of obvious and self-evident truths about how sexy and hot and expert I am _after_ doubting the very affiliation of my fucking perfection of quadrant flirtations. You just don't, okay?!"

Eridan just sort of nods up at you with shining, flush-struck eyes (and also maybe a bit of a breathlessly amused and happy grin, but _for his sake_ you are ignoring that part), and so you do what is needful and splash sea spray into his fish-face with your one free hand. Not a lot, just kind of... there's water, there's his face right there, he's being douchey and obnoxious, and basically: it's chemistry, sweetheart. The smile does not change but Eridan does blink his eyes hard a few times, and with that vengeance is secured. You feel content and warm all over.

Content, warm, and ready to swim. Gracelessly, you sink into the water exactly where you are, kicking your feet up from the seabed and then shaking your hand free from Eridan's grip. "I... I can't swim with you holding on," you mumble, halfway apologetically until you let yourself remember how awesome and sexy you are and so it sort of comes out a bit defensively as well. "Let's go." And you do. It's a largely quiet, unremarkable swim back to the boat, and when you both get there you yourself hang back a moment until you see the trick to climbing back aboard (apparently, there are ladder-like accoutrements built into the stern or something). By the time the two of you are dripping on deck and Eridan's raised the anchor and stuff, the first star of the night is twinkling into life above you, near the deepening dusk and billowing evening clouds gathering in the east.

Eventually, after an awkward moment of hesitation, you settle in next to Eridan as he gets ready to sail back, bumping your shoulder quietly into his. You don't say anything for the rest of the return trip.

 

The trip back to the lighthouse is quiet, but it's the kind of quiet Eridan can enjoy, warm and companionable. Karkat is right beside him for much of the trip, and that in itself makes Eridan's bloodpusher soar. That's kind of flirting too, isn't it? Maybe? There's a whole sailboat he could be sitting in, and okay there's not a whole lot of room on board, but he's right there close enough to touch. He doesn't have to be. He wants to be.

Eridan would try a little more flirting himself if he wasn't the one sailing the boat in the gathering dusk through reefy waters. It'd be really unsexy if he were to run them into the corals though and sink them... then again, if he did he could be the uncontrovertical hero and swim Kar all the way back. Maybe. Okay, he's actually starting to feel a well-exercised weariness and thought of having to swim the whole way back to the island with Kar in tow is upright exhausting enough, but it was a fuckin romantic idea anyway, imagining himself Kar's hero.

As it is, he keeps his concentration on the water and the boat and steers them safely through the increasing darkness and the treacherous reefs all the way back to his dock. He keeps his focus until he's secured his sailboat and gotten all their belongings and Karkat safely offloaded, then heaves a satisfied sigh. 

Now for the relaxing part of the day.

"Howw about you showwer first wwhile I get some cookery goin? Then I'll clean up too," Eridan says as he carries all their belongings back inside, deciding to really fuckin tactically not mention the fact that it'll probably take Karkat seconds flat to wash and that's a main reason he's being offered the first go at the shower. Well, that and the fact that Eridan really wants to make him happy, and a nice warm shower after a long day out in the sea is the best comfort. And food, too, is a priority. "Wwhat sounds best to you, Kar, seafood pasta or I think I got a shrimp an wwhite grubsauce pizza in the frozen storage?"

 

Pizza, for sure. You are picking your clothes out of the pile off stuff that Eridan brought in, and you have your shirt in hands, ready to pull it on over your head. The concept of taking a shower puzzles you since you just were wet, and have since mostly dried off... what's the point? But Jade has the same after-swimming shower prejudices and you've learned not to argue with her on that matter, so you decide not to argue with Eridan now, either... instead you wander over to peek into Eridan's "refrigerator" (you two are currently back in the "kitchen" and you ungraciously suppose you should probably use highblood terms in a highblood hive). 

"Can we have both?" you ask. It doesn't hurt to ask.

 

Eridan thinks about it for a moment, then nods. "Sure wwe can havve both."

Really, he should have expected a question like that, considering how Kar cleaned his plate _and_ most of Eridan's at breakfast. 

The pile of clothes and damp snorkel gear can wait to get taken care of, he supposes, at least until after he gets the food started cooking. Eridan navigates around his kitchen for everything he'll be needing--noodles, a couple of pots, a can of grubsauce. That done, he joins Karkat at the refrigerator, leaning in close and taking advantage of the situation to slip his arm around Kar's waist so he's got room to sneak his other hand into the chilly contraption to pull out a pack of shrimp he'd shelled already, and one of scallops. Why not try out a little on-purpose flirting now that he knows it's welcome? 

"If you see anythin you like in there, you can havve it, Kar."

 

Ughhh, yeahhh. You lean into Eridan's light hold, arching your neck back against his body and close your eyes for just a brief moment, squirming only slightly and maybe, just maybe, wriggling your remarkably cute backside assets into him in a potentially dangerous way (not that you do it for long enough to _really_ get dangerous, however). Okay that was kind of mean, if by "mean" you mean "teasingly provocative for no fucking good reason," but well you decide that you have reason enough in the fact that if he reacts badly (not by pushing you away, that would be fine, but by turning suddenly ridiculous and becoming a clingy dramalord over it), that would be a mark against furthering these little explorations and curiosities you've got going on. But Eridan only gasps a little, and clings a bit more tightly for a moment, but also then he lets you loose when you squirm free and spin around. Good. Fine.

That's what you wanted, right?

Ffffff sudden awkwardness. And maybe fumbling uncoolness. Who cares, though, not you, you are the fucking champion of not caring about that sort of shit. You feel like it's possible that the blush on your cheeks is going to become permanent if you keep getting all warm and curdled in the bloodpusher like this, squirmy and testy and wide-eyed and kind of off-balance. "Um, dessert maybe? Is there something you can make? Anything else, I brought snacks, for the grand movie marathon, but... I only want dessert if it involves no ocean lifeforms, okay?" Two shrimp dishes are fine and will be good but if there are shrimp or anything else from the sea involved in _dessert_ you seriously do not want it (and might possibly blow a neurological gasket over it, too). "Also, um, after I shower, I am going to use your computer to go on Trollian for a bit." The "if you don't mind" is assumed; you figure that it's actually kind of annoying if you append "if you don't mind" to every announced/contemplated action you wish to take. "So... just come up when you're ready to shower, I'll be there."

And with that bit of rambling flushy nonsense, you give Eridan a pugnacious shivery little look and then abscond like a glorious motherfucker.

 

"Y-yeah. Havve at it," Eridan calls after Karkat, voice cracking fuckin embarrassingly.

It takes a few moments of standing frozen to the spot and blinking in the general vicinity of where Karkat disappeared to before Eridan can calm his flustered fins enough to get on with the food preparation. That was... a lot more of a response than he was expecting to get with that arm reach. He has got to do some more of that overt kind of flirting. Maybe Kar will do that... that _thing_ he just did again, all wriggling his cute, firm butt right up against Eridan's still barely-fuckin-clothed frontal bits there.

Okay, got to stop thinking about that, at least enough to get this dinner going. Other things Eridan is not thinking about (as his pasta water boils over and he nearly drops the pizza as he puts it into the oven) include Karkat under the shower spray and all lathered soapy. And he's _not_ thinking about Karkat in his block on his computer either. Talking to Ter? And Gam? Telling them about his day? He's not... he's not thinking about it.

Okay, fuck, he fuckin is. Can't fuckin _not_.

Uncooked noodles skitter all over the floor as Eridan wonders if Kar is telling them about the flirting, too. He probably is. He recounted the ridiculously hot cave kissing for Gam in that recording, after all, didn't he? Okay. That's okay and not a thing that should be making Eridan's hands shake and his breathing come too fast.

They won't mind, will they? Karkat said he and Terezi were poly-lovey, but Ter probably hadn't thought he'd go and start flushed flirting with _Eridan_. What if she minds? No. Ter is cool, Ter wouldn't judge. Right? And Gam, he's... chill. Yeah...

By the time Eridan's got the food prepared and set to keep warm in the oven, he's managed to at least sort of calm down. They're cool, everything is cool; Kar wants to flirt with him and it's his decision to make and Eridan doesn't care what other people think.

He whips the brownie batter a little harder than he means to, but it ends up okay. Nice and smooth. Smooth is good. There. He can put that pan in the oven when they start eating and then by the time they're through the baking will be done. Warm fresh-baked brownies for dessert, that should please Kar. 

With a deep breath, Eridan heads up the stairs.

"Dinner's ready an wwaitin for us in the ovven, Kar, an I hope you're decent 'cause I'm comin in," he says, trying to smile all calm and cool as he enters his room.

 

CALLING ALL DOUCHEBAGS, you type furiously. I REQUIRE YOUR ATTENDANCE IMMEDIATELY. This is actually not a message you send out to all and sundry, _since you are not actually any kind of moronic retard or anything_ , but there do happen to be a few particular individuals you think you should probably jam with, feelingsly, and the most expeditious thing in that case is to create a custom-locked memo with limited reading/replying privileges extending only to your personal coterie of emotional fuckitude consultants, co-friendleaders, suspect instigators, certain necessary cheap-seat hecklers, as well as, of course, your idiot morail. All who are implicated as complicit operators in this fussyfanged "get Karkat Fucking Vantas to woo Eridan Fucking Ampora, Already" scheme, basically, which is now totally what you suspect is going on. You pass on inviting Nepeta, for obvious reasons that make you cringe a little to think about. 

So, after a record-setting one minute shower, you currently sit dripping and scowling at Eridan's computer interface, talking to the following summoned douchebags: terminallyCapricious, cuttlefishCuller, twinArmageddons, gardenGnostic, and ectoBiologist, in what you're calling DIPSHIT BITCHTITS SQUIDDLE SESSION. Terezi is not invited, because of the mutual cold-war impasse you and she reached a long time ago on the topic of friend memos, but you do happen to open a separate chat window to her Trollian chat client, where you begin to unload a vomitous array of words at her immediately. Your only fashion concession to the impending appearance of Eridan back up here in his own respiteblock would be the red and white crab-patterned boxers you are currently wearing, which are basically your favorites. But that's your only concession. They are also basically all that you are wearing at the moment. 

Things are... not going as anticipated, by the time Eridan knocks and subsequently enters. Your hope was to just kind of unload on all of the participants in DIPSHIT BITCHTITS SQUIDDLE SESSION like a fucking semi-automatic munition of irritated, turned-on (but hiding it?) confusion as well as demanding insights and wisdom from all and sundry, without having to actually _say_ what all has been going on, since it sort of feels private and personal and like your own dumb what-the-fuck-am-I-doing kind of thing, but of course like fuck was that ever going to happen. Sollux interrupts you almost from the beginning, snickering immediately and all  thiis ii2 what you get, iidiot, for gettiing 2ucked iinto all the ma22iive amporiidiiocy, eheheh. Fucker. 

Nevertheless, there has been slight progress. Slight. After managing to satisfy Gamzee on the topic of oceanic lifeforms ( THERE WILL BE A MORE EXTENSIVE MEMO LATER, FUCKASS, you promise, full of pale bile), and wrangling with John's predictably offensive supportive dipshittery (where he tells you aaalll about how he doesn't quite "get it" but knows that you and Eridan used to be "real great bros" and therefore he is real glad that you're "working it all out", like the grand assfuck that he is), you call everyone to order, so they can listen to your extemporaneous soliloquy unimpeded by nonsense interruptions. But almost as soon as you get yourself going, Feferi and Jade begin tag-teamingly quizzing you in all sorts of tedious ways. 

Distracted, you wave a curt hello to Eridan, not even bothering to look away from your devolving chatlog of bullshit shenanigans. 

 

Eridan swallows, still trying to smile like everything's fine even though Karkat's not even tearing his eyes away from the computer screen to glance at him when he comes in. Shit. That's not a good sign, that kind of abruptness, is it? Then again, Kar _is_ pretty naturally brusque most of the time, so it doesn't necessarily mean the conversation isn't going well, yeah?

For a moment Eridan just stands there in the doorway, anxiously licking his lips. And staring at Karkat in just his underwear. His really fuckin cute crab-covered underwear. If Eridan wasn't also noticing the tenseness in the (really nicely defined) muscles of Karkat's back, he'd comment on them. Later. Maybe. When he looks less likely to snap.

"I'm, ah, goin to wwash up noww." When he gets another curt wave in response, Eridan clears his throat and absconds to the ablution chamber. Well. That was upright awkward as fuck. 

Taking the time to fuss over the mess of Karkat's clothes and leave them in a tidy pile helps calm him a little bit. Honestly, even if they're bound for the washing machine, it doesn't hurt to keep things in order.

That done, Eridan begins the process of putting himself back in order. He takes an extra long time with it, letting the warm water and fragrant suds relax him as much as possible. It'll be worth the effort if by the time he's through he's more collected, and it'll give Kar more time to sort his shit out too.

It's working too, the relaxing, until a devastatingly scary thought occurs to Eridan as he's giving his hair a final conditioning. What if... what if Kar is talking to FEF? Oh no. Oh god. He's all but imagining her telling Kar all sorts of dirt on him that'll send Kar packing. She wouldn't. Would she? Fuck... Fef has a mean streak sometimes without meaning it. What if she tells Kar he's not worth the effort? That he'll just be too hard to handle? What if that's what was happening when he walked in and second thoughts about even flirting are why Kar didn't even look at him?

Okay, breathe, Ampora, and not through your lungs and your damp gills at once that's only more distressin oh fuck oh shit fuckin god damn evverythin evver. 

Eridan forces himself to take some deep breaths, then sits down in the shower, letting the water beat warmly onto his back. See. That's almost like being shooshed, water falling all around, and papped what with the soothing pattering of it on his back. Better. He doesn't need a moirail. And if his ex-moirail is advertently or inadvertently sabotaging his chances with Kar, he'll just have to show him all the reasons why keeping on flirting with him all sweet and hot and red is the best thing to never stop doing.

Pull it together, Ampora. It's wooing time. 

After he's done toweling off and making sure his damp hair is arranged as artfully as possible, Eridan emerges from the shower block, a towel slung around his hips. ...He sort of forgot to bring any change of clothes in with him. Looks like Karkat's back is still to him, though.

"Don't look yet, okay, Kar? I'm goin to change right here." Wait. Changing is a good idea, but why not let him peek if he wants? That's a good wooing tactic, right? And it's not like Eridan doesn't _want_ Karkat staring at his body...

"Actually, you can look if you wwant. But fair wwarnin, I'll be droppin the towwel." He turns and investigate the drawers of his wardrobe until he finds what he's looking for--a pair of royal purple silk underwear and his most comfortable pajamas. They're soft and fleecy and warm and covered in adorable little sea creatures in pastel lavenders and blues and greens. While fleecy jams may not be the sexiest ever, they are comforting as fuck and right now Eridan needs some of that. They're his special pajamas for special occasions, and if this isn't special, Eridan doesn't know what is. He lets his towel drop and slides into his chosen night clothes, even going so far as to pull the cute seahorse hood up over his head, carefully buttoning it around his horns. Feeling cozy and somehow more secure, Eridan pulls out his extra special set to loan to Kar, nearly identical to the ones he's got on.

"Aren't you freezin in just your crabby shorts?" Eridan asks, turning around. He approaches Karkat, a small smile on his face as he holds out the jammies. "Here, you can be as comfy an toasty wwarm as me. These are the best pajamas for curlin up to wwatch movvies in I swwear."

If Kar doesn't acknowledge him this time, well... Eridan would rather not think about that happening. Step one of wwooing Karkat--give him some care and warmth--has got to work.

 

Getting your memo-- your own fucking memo! -- on track and on-point is no easy task. Terezi hasn't responded to your emetic pukeage of words yet, which is fine because whatever, you're actually still kind of miffed at her about that whole fake court drama anyway, and usually when you're gone you know all too full fucking well that she gets all up into prolonged marathon pailing/art sessions with His Shittiness Dave Fucking Strider... but nevermind, you know she'll read this rant of yours _eventually_ , and that gives you a strange level of comfort and ease that you can't really explain. 

Egbert, of course, is back at it. 

EB: karkat i just don't understand you!! it sounds like you're having a blast of a day and even better, you've got great movie times ahead (especially with mcconaughey on deck *winks*)!  
EB: why are we even having this memo  
EB: i don't even see what the problem is, just have fun with your old bro!  
EB: how hard is that?!  
TA: haha 2hut up braiinle22 human iidiot  
TA: you have known kk for what, fiifty miilliion human partiicle2 of tiime now?  
TA: when doe2 he NOT freak the fuck out over every 2iilly 2tupiid fuckiing thiing ever?  
EB: okay that's true, but-  
GG: oh hush the both of you :(   
GG: there is obviously more to the story we just have to let kk... hehe i mean karkat... tell it his own way. he'll get around to it eventually, when he is ready!  
GG: I am sure very important things are happening and it's probably not so easy for him to tell us!!   
CG: OH THANKS A FUCKING LOT HARLEY.  
CG: THAT IS EXCEPTIONALLY HELPFUL AND NOT GOING TO GET ME MOCKED OR DERIDED BY ANYONE WHATSOEVER, ESPECIALLY NOT BY THE REPULSIVE FUCKASS INDIVIDUALS WHO TRY (BUT FAIL!) AT BEING MY BEST BROS AND SHIT.  
CG: THANKS A WHOLE FUCKING LOT.  
CG: ANYWAY, GETTING BACK TO WHAT IS ACTUALLY IMPORTANT--  
TA: ehehehe kk you are the be2t  
TA: liiterally the be2t  
TA: never ever let anyone tell you you are not the be2t  
CG: UGHHHH   
TA: thiis iis hands down the 2tupiide2t a22wiipe hor2ebea2t bull2hiit ever  
TA: admiit iit  
TA: come on kk ii know you can admiit iit even iif you ARE the biige2t a22faced moron ii wiill ever per2onally know  
CG: HOW CAN I ADMIT IT  
CG: WHEN YOU WON'T FUCKING SHUT UP ABOUT IT???  
CG: NOT THAT I'M ADMITTING ANYTHING, IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU WIGGLERS CAN'T LISTEN TO TWO WORDS IN A ROW WITHOUT INTERJECTING YOUR IDIOT OPINIONS, LIKE THE STUPID FUCKFACED MORONS YOU ARE.  
CG: ANYWAY. AS I WAS SAYING.  
TA: haha 2 you saiid 2  
TA: stop hiittiing on me kk ii wiill never get in a quadrant wiith you no matter how much you beg for iit  
CG: ASDFGHJKSDFASDJ;;  
TA: ii ju2t dont 2wiing that way  
TA: and by that way ii mean ii dont swiing iintwo 2hiit liike that wiith 2KIILLESS HACK2 who wouldnt know exploiitable bug2 from the hole2 iin theiir face  
TA: *face2  
EB: ha ha that is a good one!  
CC: L----ET KARCRAB TALK YOU TWO!!!  
CC: I want to know w)(at s)(oret of gossip you and eridan are glubbing aboat!  
CC: is it BROM--------EANTIC??? 38D  
TA: fiine fiine ii wa2 ju2t haviing a liitle fun ff  
CC: ... 38(   
TA: okay kk you heard the priince22  
TA: tiime two get back two your iimportant 2pazzy blatheriing..  
TA: ..   
TA: (waiit for iit)  
CG: DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE.  
CG: DON'T YOU EVEN.  
CG: FUCKING  
TA: _on the double_   
CG: DA-  
CG: FUCK DAMN IT.  
EB: lol ha ha ha ha ha!!!  


Wow, sometimes. You just. _Hate_. Him.

The BOTH of them.

As some _truly gross_ , fucking upsettingly lurid fantasies of a hate-date threesome dash through your addled, irritatedly turned-on thinkpan, you sort of distractedly half-hear Eridan saunter out of the ablution block (yes, his sauntering is fucking audible, okay?!), preparing to piously ignore him a little longer since you are the kind of leaderly hero who gives his full attention to whoever he is talking to online (especially if they happen to be enraging him with derailing bullshit), but then Eridan sort of invites you to leer at him in that quiet, halfway-nervous, halfway-prideful-as-fuck wavering voice of his, and you freeze. You can literally _feel_ your hearnubs perk up, and you take a deep breath. Well. Uh. Yeah.

Maybe... just a tiny peek?

Hunched over the keyboard like a hivebent hermit of old, you sort of cautiously turn your head halfway, slowly, at the exact moment Eridan drops the mentioned towel. Oh. _Oh_. Uhhhhh.... yeah, it's exactly what anyone would expect, yeah, that's for sure, ha ha ha oh fuck god you are really heated up now, fuck. Like, your whole body is a furnace made up entirely out of your raging cherry blood, _on fire_. 

That ass. That _fucking ass_. Mmmrrmgh.

It's like, gorgeous. And, like, it's just got the tiniest hint of a purple flush to it, probably from the warm shower he just had. Kind of reminds you...

... of how Terezi traipses around, buck fucking naked, all flirty and wretchedly cute and fucccck this is so fucking

 _Problematic_.

If you could bash in your thinkpan with a hammer, you would. Yes. You totally, totally would. Damn it, Eridan. Why, why of all times, does he need to stake his claim _now_ to be the biggest, derailingest douche of microseductions of _all time_ ????

You whip your head back around, stare fixedly (glazedly?) at the monitor in a kind of daze. You _will_ finish this conversation. You WILL. Slowly, without your usual vigor, you go back to grimly typing out your issues/thoughts/insults, all as per usual. Situation nominal. You will endure. You will... But _then_ , mer-douche here gets it up in that empty, flighty thinkpan of his to offer you some of his fucking ridiculous fucking pajamas, _too_... in an uncertain, hesitating but also inviting voice... and it turns out he's got a fucking seahorse hoodie on those motherfucking pajamas, _which is not unlike stupid Terezi and her stupid damn dragon sleepwear_ , and, er. You kind of lose it. Kind of.

You stand up. Turn to face him. Seethe. "You. Look. Ridiculous," you hiss, way too turned on for your own fucking good. "Come here." 

And you aggressively pull him into a really hot, really sexy kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is "awkward kinda maybe sort-of (but not really) getting it on" a kink yet?

Wow that's being a little harsh, Eridan thinks, kind of stung by Karkat's words for a second--yeah, he knows he looks upright ridiculous, but fleecy jammies worn by adults are a _thing_ and they're fuckin charming and warm and... and he barely even gets a chance to _think_ any of this, let alone voice it, before he's being swept up into a kiss so forceful and intense it makes him drop the extra set of pajamas in shock, and is also quickly turning his knees to jelly.

Well. Okay, he thinks shakily. Apparently it's not a bad thing, looking ridiculous. Not if it gets this kind of reaction out of Karkat.

The kiss ends as abruptly as it began, leaving Eridan breathless and Karkat in a similar state. Kar is so fuckin cute, all scowling up at Eridan like he's all offended, even though the scarlet blush on his cheeks and the way he's huffing his breaths is showing off how hot and bothered he is. The expression on Eridan's own face is probably as ridiculous as his outfit--he's blushing too, a surprised grin stretching his cheeks and making his fins flare, but all kind of lopsided with genuine _relief_. That's some _hard_ flirtin. Just that one kiss is enough to reassure Eridan that how ever the conversations Karkat's having on Trollian are going, he's not rethinking things.

"You like em," Eridan states proudly. It's an upright unassailable fact, and it's enough to make Eridan lean in and kiss Karkat too, quick and full of excitement and teeth. His hands have somehow settled on Karkat's hips, and he so wants to pull him closer, but that's too much, probably. So he licks his lips and makes himself let go. He's still grinning, though, as he bends to pick up the clothes he'd dropped, setting them in Karkat's hands. "You wwant to wwear em too, don't lie."

 

Oh sure. That is the _precise_ reason you are warily eyeing the jauntily sea-themed pajamas that Eridan is trying to pawn off on you as if they were harboring scorpions, or perhaps maybe a nest of angry fire ants, ready to crawl over your body and eat you to death, cold and ruthlessly. But you do nothing more than give his clothing the stink-eye, not only because you are kind of a saint, but also because it's not worth arguing semantics with a troll who only shares a passing acquaintance with the dictionary definition of things. Probably Eridan is working with some truly bullshit and esoteric definition of the word "wwant," and if you call him on it he'll almost certainly launch into how he is right and you are adorable, and like shitfucking _hell_ do you care to step on either of those particular linguistical landmines. 

So after only a moment of appalled staring at the atrocious fashions held out towards you, you snatch one of the garment pieces from Eridan's hand and try not to snarl or anything as you swiftly pull on what turns out to be the pajama top first. You do not button it, leaving the top open casually in front, and you absolutely do _not_ pull the hood up, because over your dead body that's why. What you do do, however, is shake out the sleeves and then roll them up a bit, so they don't cover your wrists. Next you nab the pajama pants, and pull them on with a few necessarily aggrieved sounding huffs, being careful to pull the drawstrings tight and a little high on your waist, so they don't slip off or cover your feet or whatever. Not, like, Kankri-level high... you know better, okay?? And also thank you so fucking much, Jade and Kanaya and Dave (of all people) for calling out your non-idiotic ass, giving you way unnecessary "warnings" and "cautions" about "overdoing it" with the "pants." Asswipes. Nookstains. In a way, you hate them all.

"I will wear these things for _you_ ," you say finally, with your eyes closed, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to get a hold of yourself and all your dumb blushing ways. "For _your_ benefit and appreciation." You slit open one eye, so as to sneakily scope out how Eridan is taking your pronouncement. "Appreciate it." 

Thankfully, Eridan passes your little appreciation test, so you don't need to shank him, _for now_. So, being very stately and like the most handsome hatched leader of all time, you turn in a dignified manner and sit yourself back down in front of the computer, opening your eyes back all the way to glare at the screen. But then you remember something. You quick look back up over your shoulder. "I'm not talking about any of your secrets or anything, but this is not a memo you are allowed to spy on. Also, this might take me a while. So, if you want..."

You sort of slide the chair back on its wheels, and gesture towards your legs. "You can sit on the floor, and lean on me or whatever. I'll pet your hair, I guess. The food will keep, right?"

 

Eridan _wants_ to be offended at the undignified suggestion that he sit at Karkat's feet and get petted like a spoiled barkbeast, but... fuck, he knows that's not how Kar means it. And the truth is, Eridan actually really appreciates the offer for what it is--a way for him to stay close and be involved even if he's not allowed to be a part of this memo or even listen in on it. He may be pouting a little, but he gives Karkat a nod and settles himself on the floor with his legs folded in front of him, leaning his head against Karkat's leg. "Yeah, the food's wwarmin in the ovven. Should be fine so take your time." Eridan closes his eyes and presses his cheek closer to the fleecy warmth. "An... thanks, Kar."

He hopes he doesn't have to say what for. There's a lot of things he appreciates right now. Karkat reassuring him about not sharing any of his secrets, that's a big thing. And though he still thinks Kar wanted to wear the fleecy pajamas anyway, Eridan likes that he made a point of saying he's wearing them for him. He appreciates being appreciated and taken into consideration like that. Eridan curls an arm around Karkat's leg, going through and smoothing his fingers over each crab he finds in the design as Karkat types furiously on his keyboard. He appreciates the fingers in his hair, too, when he feels them. It's comforting, and if that's undignified, well, fuck--Kar's been seeing a lot of him in all sorts of undignified ways the past couple days and he still likes him. _Likes_ him. Enough to ruddy flirt with him and be this upright sweet to him.

It'd be enough to bring tears to his eyes if he wasn't currently being lulled into a state of blissed relaxation. Okay, Eridan likes this. Just sitting with Kar after a long day out. It feels good, close, Karkat's fingers in his hair more soothing than sopor, and before he even realizes it Eridan's starting to slip into a doze...

 

Because you didn't expect to break out from your various private chats and important memo with some spontaneous makeout session with Eridan, you are kind of off-kilter and off your usual sickle-sharp game when you return to the computer. It's noticeable. Specifically, it is noticed by the observant Jade, who hits you with a separate PM to insinuate things at you directly. Terezi would of course totally notice if she were online at the moment, but after you stopped typing at her there's still been no reply, and you try not to be a dick about it so you don't say anything more, since you know if you did it would all be increasingly sarcastic garbage not conducive towards maintaining the health of your matespritship. 

Sollux probably notices too, but despite his propensity to be a hate-tease, he is actually a good bro to you in most of the important ways and elects to say nothing, for now. 

Others do not notice. Egbert, of course, does not. Feferi, who doesn't know you as well as she obviously thinks she does, or maybe it's just that she is so caught up in her "encouraging" monologuing that your uncharacteristic, slightly-extended silence hasn't caught up to her yet, doesn't notice either. And neither does Gamzee, who is your precious morail and very, very supportive and all, but who does tend to be a bit dim (especially when he partakes, which you now encourage him to do-- within limits-- because a little brain-rotting sopor addiction is a small price to pay to calm the apparently ravenous demons of spiritual sobriety which tend to haunt his skinny ass).

It's not really easy to get back into your usual crabtastic grumpy virtuosity, either, what with Eridan now sitting between your legs and clinging and touching, a little, in a really distracting way. You're glad he's there, of course, both because you invited him to be and also because it sort of serves as after-the-fact justification for the intensely embarrassing leg nuzzlingly/smooching you'd engaged in with him on the beach earlier, the very thought of which distinctly does _not_ make you swoon, since swooning is just in no fucking way ever, ever a thing that you do. But, like, you promised, see. You promised you'd pet his hair and shit, so of course you have to, and since typing one handed simply is NOT a thing that you do... well, it means some conversational compromises have to be made. Gently, you dig your claws up under the utterly, utterly preposterous seahorse hoodie, and run your fingers slowly, lingeringly through his disgustingly silky chunks of hair (oh wait, "locks" of hair... you are pretty sure that's the fucking girl term and Eridan is nothing if not someone who likes his fucking girl terms).

Anyway, despite all these various challenges, there is still stuff you need to discuss, with Gamzee in particular, so you cut things off with Jade in her PM, telling her that you'll have a prolonged one-on-one squiddle-to-squiddle chat with her tomorrow, and you let Feferi go on, since she doesn't seem to really require much input from you at the moment. You do keep the main memo open, however, so that John can continue to obliviously hate-flirt with you, while Sollux usefully eggs him on, which is a nice little calming channel of normalcy, worth keeping open while you start settling in for some important long distance feelings jams. 

HEY NOOKWHIFF CHAMPION, I HAVE SOME NEED FOR YOUR IDIOT USELESS PERSPECTIVE, you type out, one-handed (okay, okay, sometimes typing one handed + using the capslock key is all right, under extreme circumstances). Gamzee, of course, lurches right into the fray, all YoU'vE gOt It My MoThErFuCkIn BaByDoLl BiTcHtItS bEsT fUcKiNg FrIeNd. 

Yeah, fucking outstanding. Without really meaning to, you sort of absently finger up along the insides of Eridan's jagged horns.

 

It's like a switch gets flipped along Eridan's nerves as Karkat goes from gentle hair petting to idle horn stroking--what was a soothing tingle over his scalp lulling him into slumber suddenly turns into small electric jolts of pleasure fizzing down his neck and through his spine, lighting up other nerves as it goes. Oh. Fuckin... fuck. He is awake now, absofuckinlutely fully alert, though his mind is all hazy and his eyes are still closed and now scrunched up tight. Never in his life have his horns been this gently touched. It feels really good. And really... intimate. And it is turning him on lightning fast. Karkat's fingers keep stroking the insides of his horns like it's the most natural thing in the world, like it's nothing, and Eridan shifts, squeezing his thighs together in an attempt to keep his overactive bulge sheathed. It is most definitely _not_ nothing.

Dimly, Eridan registers the sound of keys being pounded. Another soft brush of finger against horn has Eridan choking on a moan he's trying hard not to let out. Does Kar even know what he's doing to him? Maybe he doesn't if he's going on typing. Maybe he _does_ and is talking to others even while he's teasing Eridan on purpose. Fuck, why is _that_ thought so hot? It's not _fair_. It's not fair and it feels amazing and Eridan really doesn't want it to stop.

 

... AND THEN WHEN WE WERE IN HIS STUPID CAVE WITH THE GLOWWORMS, AND, NO SHUT UP I DID _NOT_ TAKE ANY FUCKING SPECIMENS FOR YOU, WHAT WOULD YOU EVEN? SHOOSH, NO I KNOW, I KNOW... YOU DON'T CARVE ON TROLLS OR CATGIRLS OR IMP CREATURES OR EVEN WORMS ANYMORE. HOW NOVEL. YES, YES, THAT WAS A JOKE, FUCK. SHOOSH. BUT JEEZ GAMZEE, NO, NO, NO, FUCK NO. THEY WOULD ALSO _NOT_ MAKE AWESOME PETWORMS, WHAT ARE YOU EVEN FUCKING IMAGINING?! WHAT, FOR TAVROS?? NO! THAT IS _NOT_ AN APPROPRIATE SQUIDDLES-DAY GIFT FOR HIM, HE WILL NOT APPRECIATE IT IF YOU SLIME HIS RESPITEBLOCK UP WITH BIOLUMINESCENT NEMATODE ASS. OTHER THINGS ARE A LOT MORE FUCKING ROMANTIC, GET A GRIP. WHY DON'T YOU... OH FUCKING HELL, GAMZEE, DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT I... AT THIS EXACT MOMENT I HAVE... AND.

OH JEEZ FUCK HOLD ON.

You pause in your one-handed typing, the spoiled frown on your face freezing as you look down at Eridan's head pressed into your leg, and really _realize_ what you've been up to. 

It's... he's... 

Fuck.

You should say something, or stop. This is probably so not okay. But... Eridan didn't say anything, and based on the tension you are suddenly noticing in how Eridan is gripping a fistful of pajama pants frippery, right down near your ankle... he has probably been purposefully _not saying anything_ for a minute or so, now. Uhh... erhhhm. You bite your lower lip, and slowly, slowly resume stroking your fingertip up along the inside of one of Eridan's horns. His growing-up-to-be pretty damn dashing, jagged pirate horns. Maybe you'll just pretend you still have noticed what you're doing to him. Yet.

Carefully, one handed, you resume typing at Gamzee, maybe more slowly now, and you're also trying not to notice the flash down in the status bar that tells you there's more messages from Feferi. Still ignoring her, ha ha la de da.... anyway, you're sure it would be hard to get a word in edgewise if you tried. You take a peek at her chat window. Oh god. She's _still_ going on, wow, apparently with all sorts of crazy worried, curious, _eager_ questions about Eridan, and it hits you, _she misses him_. More than you even thought. 

You bite your lip harder, perhaps maybe drawing blood, not that you'd even notice though, considering. Damn it all to fuck, you couldn't (can't?) help yourself, could you? You... you let your fingers lightly, gently circle around the base of Eridan's horn... and now that you're there, it just seems natural to, well.... squeeze, just a bit. It can't hurt, right? This little bit, it can't hurt? 

Right?

 

Eridan lets out a startled breathy groan at the added sensation of pressure. There goes all pretense of all this gentle, cautious horn fondling _not_ totally affecting him. But that's okay, 'cause there's no way circling and then squeezing like that wasn't deliberate, so there's no reason for Eridan to worry that Kar will suddenly stop once he realizes what he's doing--because he's clearly already realized. And hasn't stopped. That's... that's good.

With a shaky breath, Eridan nuzzles his cheek into Karkat's warm thigh. He wants all of Kar's attention, all of it, wants him to know how good this is making him feel, and wants to make Kar feel good. But he's really _trying_ to be patient and let Kar do his thing on Trollian too. After he's done Eridan can have Kar all to himself again. And, fuck, he doesn't know how long he can go on like this anyway, before making a mess of his pants again. It's bad enough his attempts at keeping himself under control have pretty well failed already. Not his fault he keeps getting teased half to fuckin death with no relief; can't blame him for being so quick to arouse. Doesn't mean he's gonna give in... not all the way. Just. A little. A little flirting, that's all this is. A little heavy fuckin flushed flirting.

And he can give a little bit back, too. It's okay to. He's allowed... to fumble for the ends of Karkat's pant legs and slide his hands up into them to touch Karkat's calves. Breathing fast, he strokes the hard muscle.

"Kar... Kar... fuck." He swallows, distractedly mouthing a little at the fabric of Karkat's thigh. Slowly, he cracks his eyes open. "You're... that feels... fuckin... _god_ , Kar."

 

No way. You feel your face flash into a very familiar heat: boiling, embarrassing red, and you stop everything for a moment, lifting your one hand from the keyboard and gripping a bit tighter on Eridan's horn with your other. You look down, kind of dying on the inside because nope, this _really_ isn't the sort of reaction you'd intended to trigger out of Eridan. But then again, what else could you honestly expect? You wish you could just tell him to take it easy. You wish you could tell _yourself_ to take it easy. You wish you could just tell him to hold the fuck on. 

As if. It's hard to hear your own actions outside of the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. but there is the semi-distant sound of wheels skidding back, jerking half a pace away from the desk as you continue to caress just the one horn, stroking and squeezing but also running the fingers of your other hand through his hair. "I know," you say, swallowing. "Shit, Eridan, yeah." _Fuck_ do you want to stumble down to the floor and kneel before him, kissing him and feeling him up and getting really fucking intimate and everything, that would be so awesome. And horrible. Yeah. You can't. Not... yet. Shit. 

"I _know_."

So you kind of tumble out of the chair anyway, pushing Eridan down to the floor roughly. "We're... we need some fucking ground rules," you gasp, as you get his head down nicely, making him look up at you and moving your hand from his horn to caress the side of his face. "Otherwise we'll be pailing later on your couch and that can't happen, right? You said. And. I'm _saying_. So... It can't. Nnngg..." You lean in, wanting to make out with him a bit more, getting your lips _this_ close to his open, yearning mouth, watching him pant and squirm and feeling all your imaginary hit points tumble down into a fucking imaginary red zone, cuz man this is going exactly where... you want it to go, but this holding back shit isn't fun any more, it's not cool, it's just _frustrating_. "Ahhh. I... I just don't know, you know? How serious it's good or... or okay, to be." ??? ... you pause. "Uh. Wanted... was talking to Gamzee, but..." But that's going to take a long time and argh uh.... "Do you ever... take care of things? No, I mean. _The_ thing?" You shudder. "Yourself?" 

And by this you mean masturbate. But fuck, you can't even say the word, you just feel your eyes get wider and your feelings get more desperate and like, you are trying for the fifty millionth time in your life to see if maybe telepathy can be a _thing_ , even perhaps _the thing_ , if you try for it hard enough. For the fifty millionth time, it kind of fails to be a thing, although maybe you said (or emoted) enough for Eridan to catch your drift anyway. "How are we later... on the couch, movies? Will we... can...we... _fuck_." How will the two of you fucking snuggle with each other and be viciously awesome, ridiculously badass seahorse-pajamas-wearing cuddle bros together, experimentalizing the fuck out of your _feelings_ , if this pure idiot biological sexual _tension_ isn't abated?

You seriously want to know!

 

Okay, not a whole lot of that made a whole lot of sense, but through the tumbling to the floor and exquisite horn squeezing and rubbing and being _this_ close to kissing, Eridan managed to hear that part about ground rules. And... pailing on the couch later. And yeah, no, Eridan is not ready for that; flirting is good and all, but nothing's official. He still doesn't want to go that far unless it's with someone who really wants to be with him _seriously_ , and this just isn't... right. It's not _that_. What if... what if Kar decides flirting is as far as he wants to go? It'd bloody well break Eridan's _everything_ if they pailed like real lovers and then Karkat decided that actually being in the red quadrant with him wasn't a thing he wanted. So. No.

Eridan finds Karkat's hand with one of his own, awkwardly trying to steady him even as his own bloodpusher's all up in his throat and his bulge is ignoring all the _not noww not noww no wwait_ 's going through his head. His eyes are probably as wide as Karkat's too, if he thinks Kar just suggested he go do what he _thinks_ he just suggested. And... well... that's a really fuckin good idea, if he means he should go pail himself. Eridan would like to not have a raging bulge and aching nook all through their movie marathon... and oh god, the thought of Karkat taking care of _the thing_ too just sends a fresh wave of need over him.

"Kar... if I nevver took care of my owwn _thing_ I think I wwould havve exploded by noww," Eridan says, feeling his skin heating from his fins all the way down his neck. "Scientifical fact."

It's not like anyone else has ever helped him on before, not that far, in case Kar was forgetting. 

He clears his throat, looking away anxiously, still breathing too fast. "But I havven't since you'vve been here... I thought it would be rude or... somethin."

Truthfully, he's only ever taken care of that when he knows he's alone. Even during the game he was alone on LOWAA, so if he ever needed to take care of the _thing_ he didn't have to feel self-conscious about it.

Now he feels self-conscious about it. And Kar is in his respiteblock, and his ablution block is attached, and... oh god, he'll hear everything.

"Um. I'll... I can... go. Do the thing. An you can talk to Gam... or. If you wwant, I can... I mean, I'vve got a pail if... if you need somethin like that." Fuckin god, this is coming out awkward as hell. Eridan really hopes Karkat can't tell just how badly it's turning him on, thinking about him filling his pail, even if it's not _with_ him. He doesn't even usually use one himself; what's the point? Not like he's got a quadrant filled, or like there are drones anymore anyway, or a fuckin mother grub for that matter.... He blinks hard, biting his lip. Shit. "Or... there's the showwer."

 

Rude? Yeah, ha, fuck, wouldn't wanna be... rude. Ha ha. Ha ha ha s-shit. So you nod, unsteadily, only now finally pressing your lips against the corner of his mouth, wanting pretty much to catch him up in a comprehensive, devouring kiss, but holding off. An idea occurs to you. Eridan did, after all, let you take a look at his ass... yeah. He totally did, didn't he? Earlier. You nod again, even more unsteadily, at no-one and nothing, your fingers aching to grope along Eridan's body, down towards... but you let Eridan grip your hand, tight instead, keeping your wandering hand in check. Well, the one hand. 

The other... you close your eyes, your body twitches... maybe just a little touch along... no. Fuck, _no_.

Anyway. There is only one thing you can do that's right. After shaking off Eridan's clinging grip you roll over onto your side, away from him. You curl up into yourself, wrapping your arms around your legs, tucking your knees up against your chest. "Uh... so Eridan. Yeah, go. You take the shower. For... taking care of... you know. I'll... wait. Here. Come back, bring... you know. Get your pail. After. I'll, when you're done. Out here." 

And Eridan can watch. If he wants. Gosh fucking hell. That is so fucking embarrassing. You want to die even just _thinking_ about it. You shut your eyes closed tight, curl up into yourself even further. Your nook is already wet and ready; your bulge is lashing inside the borrowed pajamas... very carefully, you reach down, pulling at the band, wanting to let some air in or something (it doesn't help). If... if Eridan wants to watch, you'll have to move. You won't... not down here. No. 

So before Eridan can even make a decision, and after you've sort of vainly tried to waft some air into down into your pants for cooling reasons, you groan a bit and force yourself to sit up, moaning a bit and sort of flailing for a moment until you gain the momentum of kinetic motion (somehow) to lurchingly crawl back over to the computer chair, using it like a crutch, holding your hand out to the keyboard like a dying troll. BRB, you type slowly, half blindly, at your beautiful, stupid morail. GOODBYE ONE SEC FFFFFFF

 

Eridan is staring, well, gaping really, at Karkat now. He's pulled himself back into a sitting position on the floor, not really ready to get to his feet and go do... that... in the ablution block yet. Not when Kar just... he just asked for the pail. But... okay, Eridan is kind of confused as fuck. Kar is going to take care of himself after Eridan's done in the shower? Out here, in his respiteblock? But... but that means... if Eridan's done, what, where's he going to go while Kar's doing that? Is--no. Is Kar suggesting he _watch_? He's kind of watching now, as Karkat plays with the waistband of his pajama pants...

It's suddenly really hard to breathe. He's trying too hard, doing that thing again where his gills are flaring trying to compensate for the lack of oxygen getting to his lungs, and his head is starting to fuckin spin. Fuck. No fuckin way. He misheard. Had to have.

"I'm, I'll just--" he tries, watching Karkat reach up like it's the hardest thing in the world, to pick at the keys for a second. Eridan forces a deep breath, puffing his cheeks out with it as he exhales. "I'll leavve the pail... if you... if you... fuck. Yeah."

He gets to his feet and stumbles to the wardrobe, digging into the deep back corner to pull out his shiny brand-new-looking pail. There. It's out, there where Kar can see it if he decides he doesn't want to wait. Eridan hardly expects him to; he's certainly not going to wait anymore.

Eridan makes a run for the ablution block, hand shaking as he closes the door behind him. Only that thin wood planking separates him from Karkat right now, and Kar knows exactly what he's about to do. It's both thrilling and making him a little sick with anxiety. 

This is going to take all of two fuckin seconds, Eridan can feel it, like a fuckin six-sweep-old just getting off for the first fuckin time. He has never been _this_ aroused in his entire life. 

Shaking, aching with it, Eridan strips down, not even bothering to fold his pajamas. He turns the shower on, hoping that'll be enough background noise to drown out the sounds he knows he's not going to be able to help making. Like the desperate whimpering noises already escaping him. Under the water, he drops to his knees, finally _finally_ allowing himself to touch his neglected bulge. He'll just... pretend he's alone. Let this go as he always does. 

_Oh god, Kar, yes, please please_ he thinks, imagining it's Karkat's hands wandering there, his bulge instantly straining out to meet and curl around his fingers. Eridan squeezes and pulls, both hands enveloping and sliding easily over the length of his writhing bulge. It feels good, it feels good, it feels so fuckin good...

"Fuck. Fuck, ah fuck, Kar, _fuck_ ," he murmurs, louder and louder. One hand still working his coiling bulge, he slips the fingers of the other hand down to the base of it, then just past it, teasingly touching his aching nook. He's dripping steadily, hips rocking, forehead pressed to the cool shower tiles. All it takes is the press of two fingers inside his nook, curling once, twice, and Eridan comes undone. 

He cries out wordlessly as his whole body tenses with his release, bright violet flooding the ablution chamber and mingling with the water swirling down the drain. The intensity of it leaves him gasping, crumpled bonelessly on the shower floor, warm water soothing him and washing him clean. 

Two. Fuckin. Seconds. Well, maybe a little more than that, but still an embarrassingly short amount of time.

So for a few minutes more Eridan lies there, letting himself recover. Pulling himself together. Only when he's finally breathing something close to normally and his bulge is calmed enough to be back under its protective bone sheath does he stir himself.

It doesn't take long, five minutes at most, for him to dry and dress--record time. This whole episode probably is taking no more than ten minutes at the most. Flushed down to his chest again, Eridan hesitantly opens the door. He's chewing his lower lip, sort of scowling anxious and defiantly at his own feet, daring them to comment. So, that was kind of quick. So, he's kind of loud. So he calls Kar's name even though they're not matesprits, fuckin god. So? He can fantasize.

So... Eridan cautiously looks up to find Karkat.

 

After Eridan dashes off, all awkward and practically stumbling over himself to make it to the shower in time, you release a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, and then crawl over to the classy copper-plated pail Eridan left for you. In other circumstances you would be rolling your eyes over the unnecessary fanciness of his dumb pail, but right now the thought just makes you feel warm all over, and also kind of weirdly sad and maybe even a bit protective of his idiot ass.

You run one finger over the rim of the pail, imagine the aroma of combined genetic material rising intoxicatingly from inside. God you really want it like that; coming in his body, him coming in yours. Filling the pail afterwards. Together. It would be so, so sexy.

But well. You sigh, a quiet huff of lustful regret. There are other ways to be sexy. And also... you roll over to briskly stand up, and after picking up the pail you softly stomp your way over to the closed door of the ablution block, putting a nub to the wood since of course you're going to flagrantly listen in. And also... _I promised him a show_ , you think dizzily to yourself, continuing that thought. 

It's really worth it, anyway, listening sneakily from here. You have to stifle a few inconvenient whimpers and wannabe moans of your own, and it's heroic fucking work, keeping your hands off your bulge. Eridan's in there, and fuck it all if you can't hear him, calling out for you over and over again. That's so fucking hot.

See, it would be kind of nice to snatch Eridan up, while he's still desperate and lonely like this, making him your matespr... making him yours, before he maybe possibly gets his shit together and starts exhibiting some kind of non-loser personality. It not like he's not hot; everyone agrees that he is and that's not even in dispute. You _swear_ though, that this thought of snatching Eridan up had not even been on your mind before today, and it's a serious decision and also a reckless one too, because odds are pretty fucking nookwhiffingly slim that Eridan will ever stop being super clingy, super supercilious, and super self-absorbed.

But still. The picture, the imagery in your mind, the imagined sensations: guh. That's hot. So hot.

After Eridan turns off the water to his shower, you quickly move away from the door since it would suck beyond comprehension for him to actually catch you in the act of listening in like a creepy asshole. But you don't go far; you go instead to slouch against the wall, setting down the pail next to you and being as casual as you can, despite being all sexily worked up and shit. Eventually, after what feels like fucking forever, Eridan peers out of his ablution block, obviously scanning the room in an endearingly nervous, searching way to find you. You can't even fucking believe he got himself wet all over, like, did he do a full shower all over again? What a goddamn moron. A sexy, desirable, you-want-to-pail-him-already moron. 

"Over here," you say, voice low even as you step quickly towards him from outside of his immediate line of sight, being to the side of him and also sort of behind... you grab him that way, too, from behind, and your really hot and also really studly and sexy bulge is just writhing in your borrowed pajama pants. Snaking your arms around his waist, rubbing your face into his back, you just... want him. It's a very pure feeling, this wanting him. 

You only indulge in a moment of this rubbing and stuff, though, before stepping back, simultaneously tugging on Eridan to turn around to look at you. "Still wanna watch?" You ask, voice husky. Super turned-on.

 

Eridan's eyes are wide as he turns to face Karkat. There's a weird tingling fluttery feeling in his belly, but it's not the apprehension that was there a moment ago. Kar didn't tease him over any of the things he was afraid he might. Instead, he... he hugged him. Really sexily sneaking up from behind too. And Eridan wants that closeness, so bad, so fuckin bad; wants to reach out and pull Karkat against him again and feel the incredible heat of him, warm even to Eridan's shower-heated skin, feel his bulge move through the fabric of his pants. And his voice... god, it's making the fluttering in Eridan's insides worse. Or better maybe. More.

Fantasizing about acting on his impulses is as far as he can let that go, though. Watching, on the other hand... Kar actually _is_ inviting him to do that. That part is real and happening and... okay. Even if watching is all Eridan ever gets to do, the memory of seeing Kar pailing himself right in front of him will give him sweeps upon fuckin _sweeps_ of sexy imaginings.

"Yeah, I wwanna. I really fuckin wwanna," Eridan says, his own voice coming out a bit rough. Oh god, he's going to need another goddamn shower after this, isn't he? "If. If you do, that is. I mean, if you wwant privvacy I could go..." He waves his hand in a desperate gesture of 'anywwhere, awway, fuck if I knoww'.

Even as he says that though, his eyes keep drifting to the front of Kar's pants, to the waiting pail, finally to Kar's face. God, he wants this. But he's making a huge effort not to make Kar feel like he's got to, not even if he said he would already.

 

If you wanted privacy, you would have fucking taken care of this by now. Not wanting to dignify Eridan's mealy-mouthed offering with a real response, you simply snort (sexily) and then imperiously point at where you want Eridan to sit and be your audience. "Sit over there, mer-troll," you say. You are going to stand right in front of him and so you go and retrieve the pail (sexily) and then come to stand and frown (sexily) at him, setting the pail down primly near Eridan's crossed legs. "I'll try make this as hot as possible." 

It's super important that everything you do from here on out is sexy, but on the other hand you're not some skank pimp-stripper ho or anything, so you aren't going to coyly belabor certain points, either. "I'm glad you want to watch," you say in a dignified, stiff way, being (of course) absolutely sexy about it, all solid immovable might and also crossing your arms for a moment. You nod down at Eridan's rapt, shining face (is he honestly shining with flushed feelings? oh god), and then without any further ceremony, get started.

Taking off the pajama top is ridiculously easy, since all you need to do is shrug it off, which is exactly what you do. Pajama top gets tossed gently at Eridan's face: Eridan grabs it, and then holds it tightly with both of his hands in his lap, twisting the fabric and making his knuckles go pale grey with tension. You notice, and lick your lips. Mmm. Next will be, well, the pajama bottoms, which you remove a bit more slowly, shaking them off your hip and then leaning over to pull them down, one leg and then the other. Your bulge is unsatisfied and impatient, making for a writhing squirming disaster of high-velocity action inside your boxers, very visibly obvious the moment the pajama pants are fully removed; those, you kick to the side, out of range.

Envisioning all this in your mind beforehand turns out not to have prepared you for dealing with the waves of adoration palpably radiating from this idiot's stupid mer-face, and so as you are bent over you find yourself overcome with an unstoppable, high-power blush, because feeling the metaphysical heat of Eridan's feelings directed at you really makes this all seem more like... a mutual experience... which it occurs to you could be considered cheating on the spirit of Eridan's "no pailing" requirement, so oh shit, oh shit... oh fucking no shit, but whatever. Shit, never mind, who cares. 

You decide not to care. Your decision, being perfect and correct, fills you with sexy smugness.

Right now, you shove your hands deep down into your boxers, forcing the actively squirming bulge into compliance. All becomes almost still, but of course the sensation causes you significant strain, and your dripping nook bears testament to how much Eridan's moans and Oh Karkats have affected you. You already have kind of messed up these boxers, but so what, that doesn't mean you can't wear them all night... the flushed wetness will dry, eventually, and maybe will rub into the borrowed pajama pants you'll be wearing again. That will make them smell like you; you entertain the fantasy idea of Eridan furtively setting them aside, hiding them in this uncleaned state, keeping them this way so he can be all creepy and sniff on them later. Fuck, that idea is a real big turn on. Fuuuucckkkk.

Closing your eyes, you tilt your head back, and let yourself make a super sexy groan, loud and recklessly wanton. Eridan is... stupid idiot Eridan has been so lonely, for so long, and has never pailed with anyone, and probably has never even watched anyone pail. This means... you're kind of... providing a first-time experience for him. You find yourself longing to make things really good, to do it so right and so hard that Eridan really likes it, and it sort of makes you sick, realizing how deeply you want to maximize Eridan's enjoyment, and... appreciation. You let yourself start thinking about urging him into touching you. Where would he touch first? What would be his favorite part on you? What would he like best about playing with your bulge? Would he... nauseatingly, infuriatingly... find it "cute?" 

"Uhhh... damn. I wish..." You panic once you realize what you are saying, and cut yourself off before you can reveal your personal thoughts. Making Eridan yours... admittedly, even though you never thought about it before... maybe, possibly, probably would be... kind of nice. Kind of super nice. "Oh Eridan... fucking idiot mer-troll.... fuck. Fuck. You'd better be... oh fuck, don't you even dare not be... fuck. Fuck. " You imagine his hands, his tongue, here and maybe there. Biting your lip, you wrangle your feral bulge into further submission. 

You think you'll... yeah, this will be hot. This will be real hot. Your bulge resists when you work to turn it inward, poking the small and kind of (regrettably) cuteish tip right up into the wet, slippery entrance to your own nook. This is a rare trick, hard to do because your bulge pretty much seems to have a fucking mind of its own when turned on, and hates doing this. Hates it thoroughly, even though it feels really, really good. Your bulge is getting slicked and wet, and is still tantalizingly out of sight for Eridan down there... you hope you are really frustrating him now, with this near-total show, entertaining a brief but deliriously hot fantasy of him being so overwhelmed by the teasing, he gives up and comes over and like... ravishes you. Or whatever the fuck dumb human regency romance term applies.

"Wanna see," you spit out, and maybe moan a little too. "Wanna see? Wanna see?" You sound urgent, breathless. And maybe the tiniest, tiniest bit taunting.

It appeals to you, the sudden idea of making Eridan beg for it. Yeah, that will be sexy. 

That will be _super_ sexy.

 

Is he fuckin serious? He can't be fuckin serious, asking if Eridan wants to see. Eridan can't keep his eyes off of Karkat and what's going on under those adorable crabby boxers. It's torture, not knowing just what the hell he's doing under there, though imagining what Kar _could_ be doing is making Eridan's own bulge react already. Holding his bulge, keeping it still--that's got to be hard for Kar to be doing. Fuck. Eridan fists his hands more tightly in the fabric of Karkat's pajama top, pressing it down against his crotch. He's already coming bloody unsheathed. Okay, that's okay; shouldn't that be what Karkat wants? To turn Eridan the fuck on? 

Is that what he 'better be', what Kar wishes? Well. If it is, Eridan can give him that. With an effort, he puts the pajama top aside and lets Karkat see the movement already starting in his own pants. He fists his hands on his thighs, digging his fingers into the fabric of his own pants.

"Kar, quit teasin." It's part whine, part plea, Eridan's voice tight and a look of consternation on his face. "I wwanna see, I wwant all a--"

He bites his lip, stopping the rest of the words tumbling out just in time. All of Kar. Eridan wants to do way more than just _see_ ; god, if he could kiss Kar breathless right now he would be doing it, and if he could have his own hands down Karkat's pants too, making him moan some more...

And well, he did have his hands down Karkat's pants briefly, didn't he? The memory of having a handful of Karkat's ass last night makes Eridan's bulge swell and give a needful lash in the confines of his pants. 

"Fuck. Fuck, hold on, I just..." Abruptly, Eridan stands and pulls his own pajama pants off, leaving just his royal purple briefs on along with his pajama top. The rate this is going, he'd have made a mess of the pants and since his extra pair are spoken for, well. They had to go.

He sits again, legs crossed and open wide, and fidgets with the ends of his pajama top, making the conscious decision to unbutton the bottom few buttons so a triangle of his lower belly is exposed... so that Kar can see exactly what this is doing to him. "Okay," Eridan says, licking his lips and fixing his eyes back up on Karkat. "More? Come on, Kar, please?"

 

As it happens, taking off boxers while a) aroused, b) unsheathed, and c) wanting to continue to (mostly) immobilize one truly rebellious little bulge is not particularly easy. Actually, it's not easy at all. 

But you've got to do it. Got to deliver on your promises, whether explicit or implied. You react with something like stunned, turned-on shock the moment Eridan stands to toss his pajama pants, since it looks like he's ramping back up to "really, really aroused" way faster than you expected, which is actually kind of taking you aback (although it also actually made you take one involuntary step forward, towards him). Eridan is coming through splendidly on the begging, though. The way he whines for more sends a shiver up your spine and makes you feel some pretty desperate things. With one shamefully shaky hand you tug down on the band of your boxers, leaving it to your other hand to hold your bulge into position. Never mind how much of a dripping, slippery mess you've become.

"Ah, ah, o-okay," you say, capitulating a little too easily, a little too eagerly. It takes some doing to tug the boxers off all the way, requiring some shimmying and looking over your shoulder down at your probably repulsively adorable little butt. There. There. You take in a deep, shaking breath when you realize you're completely bare fucking naked, and you notice how Eridan's lust-darkened eyes widen and how his panting breaths become a bit louder as he takes in the sight of your candy-apple red bulge. You sort of longingly, desperately wonder if it bothers him, this wrong mutant color, much more evident here on your smooth tentacular skin. "Don't mind," you find yourself blurting out, defiantly pleading, voice breaking because of your nerves and your sexy passions. You gulp, swallowing hard over nothing. "It's not...Don't."

You mostly anticipate that Eridan won't mind, but you seek reassurance anyway, who knows the fuck why. Fortunately, and as you probably should have bet on, Eridan is right on it, nodding fervently for a moment and then shaking his head no, equally fervently. As if he's wordlessly agreeing not to mind while at the same time denying that he'd _ever_ mind. 

It's oddly moving. And it makes you want to fuck him rotten. 

Not happening, though. You need to keep reminding yourself: that's not happening. Not now... or maybe, not yet. 

What you do end up doing is taking another step or two closer, standing right in front of Eridan now, and giving him the best fucking view ever of your auto-copulating bulge. 

However, it is at this very moment that your slick, stubbornly untamed bulge manages to slip out of your hold all whiplike and searching... trying to find a warm accommodating nook (not your own) to nestle into. Wow, that is intensely embarrassing, and yet... you examine the captivated expression on Eridan's face, noticing how he reacts with a shudder and by parting his lips. 

You want to. Oh, god how you want to.

But you don't. Instead, you wrangle you bulge back under control, grasping it two-handed while trying your utmost not to squeeze since that would just fucking make you come. You're damn fucking close to coming already. Carefully, you pet and coax your fucking tentabulge to curl first around two fingers, and then dipping down and bumping it into your aching, throbbing nook. "Look, babe- er... no, you. Eridan. Look. Watch. Gonna... nnnn gotta... mrghhh yes yes fuckingghhhmmmrmm oh god... Eridan. Oh god, you fucking Eridan. Look. Look. _Look_."

 

Babe. Kar just called him babe. Didn't mean to, obviously, and it kind of makes Eridan's bloodpusher lurch painfully when he takes it back. But then Karkat's babbling his name in that desperately turned on voice and it's good, it's all good. He's not Kar's babe, much as he'd love to be, but Karkat does want him here, wants to be doing this for him, wants him watching.

Eridan nods hard, not trusting his voice. What would he even say? _Fuck no I'd nevver stop lookin if I could help it, if you'd let me, always_. Because this, _this_ is the most upright devastatingly arousing thing he's ever seen in his life, the sight of Karkat's adorably curling bright red bulge slipping into his own dripping nook. Eridan _aches_ for that to be him, _his_ bulge going inside Kar, and god his own nook is throbbing with want just watching Karkat's bulge curling into him. Karkat's so close Eridan can see everything, can smell it rich and warm, and fuck does he want to taste too. It probably _does_ taste candy sweet, Kar's bulge and his nook, the fluid dripping from it.

Seeing Karkat this worked up is making Eridan want to reach out and help him finish. Run his hands up Kar's thighs, bury his face in his nook, show him just how fine his candy blood is (and fuck if he doesn't feel like the biggest asshole for ever calling Kar an assblood, even if it _was_ a really long time ago... he'd take it back, all of it, if he could). But he can't he can't. 

"God you're fuckin--fuckin gorgeous." Eridan's voice is a husky whisper, punctuated by panting breaths. "Go on, Kar. Showw me... showw me howw you like to... to do it."

He's palming his bulge hard with both hands, keeping them occupied so he doesn't reach out like he desperately wants to, and so _it_ doesn't escape his underwear. Fuck. It's hard, it's so fuckin hard and it _hurts_ inside not being able to lavish Karkat in the flood of red feelings rushing through him right now.

 

"How I like to do it... _ha_."

You shake your head, a hopefully gregariously not-too-bitter crooked half-smile on your face as you aim a small leading kick at Eridouche's fancy pail, knocking it over. _That's_ fucking how you like to do it. But... no judgment. No guilt-tripping. Eridan looks a bit confused, but before his confusion can turn into something negative and needlessly self-loathing, your smile widens, like an awesomely intrepid fucking predator. "I like to do it allll the ways," you add, fairly breathless, voice low and deep and really turned-on. Boasting.

That's some boast. But it's true.

Now you bend over to pick up the pail you just knocked over, and you make sure to catch and hold Eridan's gaze as you set it down purposefully even closer to him, right in front of him in fact, and you stand just behind it... tempting, to place the fucking pail right between his legs, and to stand over it, but you suspect that would be unwise at this "injunction." This bloody idiotic "injunction." 

Ahhh fuck. Just remembering Eridan's little problem with basic dictionary skills clenches your bloodpusher with unwanted, complicated flushed-like warmth, a derailing invitation to break the carefully positioned, fragile barrier of distance between you... and if you did, that could ruin everything. No no no. 

"Ahhh fuck it, Eridan, fine," you say, deciding to derail yourself in another way: you close your eyes tight, clutch at your head, spaz out for a second in a satisfying way. " _Fine_. I admit it. You are _sometimes_ pretty cute." Ahhhhh no no, damn, that was an admission you meant to take with you to your fucking grave, but okay whatever this is better. Better than ruining everything anyway. "But only sometimes, you nookstain douche moron!" Which is not your best insult, you realize. But damn, you're fucking _excused_ when you're this turned on. 

On to business, you decide. Abruptly, you cease acting like a gooey freakazoid, and return to what's at hand... your whole body is pretty much shaking and your hands tremble as you awkwardly try to get your stupidly flailing bulge (which of course can never obediently get with the program; god, it's almost as fucking terrible as your past self) into order. It's a bit of a squirming fight to shove it back up into your nook, but well you are a pro at this particular maneuver, because even though you don't do it frequently, you do it often enough. Terezi likes it a fucking lot, after all.

Eridan continues to stare up at you with all his adoration plain on his offensively somewhat adorable face, and he is shaking too and the way he is palming his bulge is kind of a massive travesty, since if this all were proceeding ideally you'd be _all fucking over him_ , taking over custody of his bulge as well as his nook (sexily, of course) and making him yours, yours, yours... your shaking increases, the pressure inside your bulge does as well... you're going to come, you are so so ready and shit fucking Eridouchelord Douchebag Douchescar Mer-douche doucheface douchecutie douche.... ahhh, damn it, yes. Yes. Yesss. There you go.

 

"Ohhh _fuck_ , Kar," Eridan moans, absolutely enthralled as he watches Karkat come _fuckin inside himself_. " _Fuck_."

That has to feel so goddamn good, he knows from experience--filling himself is the only way he's ever been filled, and it's still something he does rarely, only when he really wants to maintain the illusion he's doing it with someone instead of pailing alone. _God_ , he wishes that was his nook. Maybe... maybe in a minute he can go do this too and pretend it's Kar in him.

And Karkat is so full of ravishment, so fuckin hot like this, so much hotter than Eridan even imagined. Unsurprisingly, he's also still upright adorable, with his insults still flying even when he's this turned on. And he called Eridan _cute_. Fuck, once is enough: Kar thinks he's _cute_ and he can't take it back now! It makes his bloodpusher swell and brings a stupid lop-sided, too turned-on smile to his face. "You're--" wait, he's not allowed to call Kar cute, is he? Shit. Um. "--You're the most adorablerotic."

That... that works, right? 

Eridan is so aroused by all this, and it just keeps getting better. Karkat's bulge is slipping out of him now, and Eridan has to bite his lip thinking of what's coming next. The final release. The filling of his pretty pail. In anticipation, he presses fingers against his own throbbing nook through the cloth of his damp underwear.

 

You're pretty sure your vision goes white there for a second, nook suddenly filling with your own genetic material, building up intolerably in pressure while your nook also tightens _hard_ over your bulge, especially at the entrance, a near stranglehold that you're sure squeezes every last drop of available sexual fluids out of your body (and then fucking right back into your body. yikes), and which also serves to help keep all that red from messily spilling down all over your thighs. 

Of course this is just one of the myriad ways trolls are infinitely superior to humans; you have previously been invited to watch Dave and Terezi do their thing, several times, which you did each time only with _great reluctance_ , and besides the fact that you noticed that Dave happens to have a truly awful and barely functional (and also ugly) bulge that only gets hard and doesn't do anything else (wtf)... well, besides that, it's clear that once he fucking comes, boom, it's over. Stupid humans and their stupid terrible bad human orgasms. Obviously if you were ever to hate-do-it with Egbert, taking his pathetic poor-performance bulge into account by delaying his release would definitely be a strategy you'd go with. For you, however...

Your nook closes up tighter and tighter as your bulge slowly slips out, becoming first soft and lethargic and then sort of going on its usual retreat... you hold it gently, petting it a bit since well even though it's a very difficult bulge with a difficult contrary personality, well, it's still yours and you love it. It did a really good job too, being super hot and all. With care not to scrape your claws on your precious hard working bulge, you coax it to slip slowly, _slowly_ through your fingers, applying a steady light pressure as it retreats, exhausted and spent, back into its cozy sheath. This is a little trick you have, which keeps the very tip of your bulge from going all the way back inside (as it would do otherwise if you just left it alone), since you like having it peeking out, it looks sort of nice, just a tiny bit engorged and of course shining wet with thin, brightly clear red fluids. 

Cute, maybe. Not that you'd ever say that. Speaking of... "I heard that," you growl, glaring sort of way sexily at stupid douchebag Eridan with his stupid shining douchebag face of absolute happiness and adoring you and stuff. He is very much totally adoring you at this moment, and also obviously really really turned on, a faint sheen of (elegant and also sexy) perspiration on his brow. Stupid Eridan looks so ready, so fuckable, so ready to be fucked. "Leave... the neologisms to the professionals," you spit, trying to sound like you are scolding him and also vaguely contemptuous, but what with your heavy breathing and staggering high plateau of serious sexual pleasure, it comes out more fond sounding and only maybe slightly exasperated instead. 

Shit. Fuck. It totally sucks how being sexily turned on also makes you much less able to be a totally magnificent grouch.

But. What. The. Fuck. Ever. You stomp the two steps it takes to position yourself directly over Eridan's pail, which brings you closer to him than ever, so close that you could reach out and grab a fistful of his hair and hold it. You... do reach out, for a second, but only to brush back some strands of wet messy hair which had been stuck to his elegantly perspiring brow. "Ah, ah... If you have to call me anything, adorable is fine," you concede with very little grace, clenching your jaw as if this is painful for you to say, and actually it kind of is. "It's fine because-- fuck, mmm, dammit-- it's fine."

After fussing with Eridan's hair for a few unnecessary distracted moments, you straighten back up, and now that your bulge is mostly entirely retracted and your nook is near-bursting with your own personal come, with one searching hand you reach down and start fingering yourself, right around the soft very wet slippery bits at your nook's entrance, gently circling and teasing inwards right into the tight, closed entrance. It will open up with the right kind of teasing, and as it fucking happens, you're exceptionally skilled at just exactly that kind of teasing. You probably moan a little too eagerly and lick your lips a bit too wantonly once you begin to go at it, too, but that's fine because Eridan appears to be exceptionally turned on himself, if the... ugh, oh my god, shit... if the _supremely and unfairly sexy_ writhing of his bulge has anything to say about it.

You had been trying to avoid noticing his bulge, since you know he just came and for him to be this turned on this quickly after coming means that... wow, you just can't even fathom how deeply into you that Eridan would have to be to be able to do that, but it's got to be pretty fucking deep and that is so damned painful and also hot to contemplate. Your natural instinct, of course, is to show some degree of pity. "Ahh... if you want, um, well... I really think you could... and would also really like it... if you... ah ah ah! _Fuck_. Shit. If... if you... came with me. You know?"

You point to the pail with one shaky hand. It wouldn't count as real pailing if you're not touching each other, right? But. Well... you examine Eridan's face closely, and swallow hard. You can tell he wants to, wants to real fucking bad. But also you can easily see how his expression clouds, darkening slightly with some hesitation (and the tiniest amount of consternation), and immediately you feel like the hugest most manipulative awful douchebag in the whole nation of awful douchebags. "No, fuck... shit, I'm not thinking straight. No. Never... never mind. I know... we can't. Damn, sorry, ba--" Shit you almost called him babe again. "Um, you. _I know_. Sorry, forget it, that's a bad idea. No. Sorry." 

Somehow, being all mortified and also feeling a strange lonely longing ache in your chest makes you all the more desperately turned on; you finger yourself more urgently, and your nook slowly relaxes, begins dripping your fluids down into the pail. Soon the dripping becomes full-on release, and you moan loud and pure and forget everything as you noisily fill Eridan's pail. Yesssss. Idiot humans, fuck yourselves. Especially idiot Egbert fucking humans. Fuck yourselves _hard_. This is the way to fucking _do_ it. Mmmrghhmmmm yes yes yesss yessss.... 

After you empty your nook of all the come that's in you, you pretty much stumble back a step and then fall to your knees. You lean forward, putting your hands palm-down on the cold floor. That was good. And a disaster was averted, although for a moment it was close there. Good job. J-just... just one more thing... "By the way, Eridan. Stop touching yourself so hard, come on. You'll come right now if you're not careful... you... you stupid..." Your voice trails off. You look up. Fuck. He really is kind of beautiful when he's desperately turned on like this. Fucking fuck. It's... yeah, _really unfair_. Whyy. "If you're ready, go."

 

Oh god, oh god, oh _fuckin_ god _damn_ , it's all way too much. Too much for his overwhelmed emotional bloodpusher and too much for his up-ramped lust-filled body to even handle. ...Kar reaching out to touch his hair, telling him he can call him adorable if he wants (he'll just not think about the mention of Ter), fuckin wanting to _share_ the pail with him. At that moment, there's nothing he wants more, with that one really important caveat--sharing a pail like that, even if they didn't even touch each other, that's dire shit, that's something concupiscent quadranted _matesprits_ do, and Eridan wants his first fuckin actual pailing to be bloody special. Not a probably one-time thing, like he thinks--thought?--this would be. So it's both a huge relief and also kind of an aching disappointment when Karkat apologizes and takes it back. 

The feeling doesn't last long; Eridan will have to think about it later, right now what little brain power he's got left is focused on the fuckin sensual way Karkat teases himself into the most amazingly hot release into the pail of all damn time. The sound and sight of that jewel-red fluid sluicing from Karkat into the cool metal, so close, so close, sends echoing jolts of pleasure through Eridan. Fuck. Oh shit. He presses his hands against his bulge and squeezes, raptly watching Karkat finish. Oh, oh fuck, oh shit oh no fuck--his second orgasm takes him by surprise, jaw falling open in a stunned gasp as he spills into his pants. There is not a goddamn thing he can do to stop it.

But at least he'd already come... there's not a whole lot of royal violet genetic material left to spill. He's still shaking slightly, overstimulated and riding the aftershocks as Karkat lifts his head to tell him he should go if he's ready to finish himself.

Eridan gives a weak laugh. "Kar, I... I, uh, wwasn't careful enough."

That's about the most dignified way he can think of to tell Karkat about his very fuckin undignified situation. His bulge is slowly retracting under his hands, which are still pressed to the front of his pants to hide the warm genetic fluid soaked into them. That is... upright embarrassing. "So. I wwon't be needin to go anywwhere." Except to clean off, but that's a given.

 

You nod, probably maybe secretly relieved? After all, Eridan looks like he couldn't possibly be feeling more humiliated, which actually is pretty preposterous and aggravating beyond measure when you think about it, because _you_ just openly came in front of him, and sure it's embarrassing to some degree but isn't it kind of different when it's with someone who wants you and finds you really hot? Doesn't he get that you find him really hot? 

Anyway. _You_ did a lot more than he did but _you_ aren't the one who is acting all nervous and apprehensive here. Except... an ugly wash of angry self-critical shame floods over you, as the reason occurs to you sort of stupidly late: but of course he feels this way, he's never been with anyone before like this. Ever. And what you two just did wasn't even real pailing, so. 

At least by coming already, Eridan spared himself the indignity of needing to run off _twice_ to go take care of things in the fucking ablution block. Fuck that shit. Seriously. Fuck it hardcore. 

Trying to be super casual about it (and totally succeeding, you're sure), you go over and grab your crab-print boxers, and use them to wipe off your hands and also the fluids around your nook and now-retracted bulge, using them sort of as a makeshift towel to sop up the excess and dry yourself off: once done, you carelessly toss them off into a random corner of Eridan's room. You're not wearing them again when Eridan has a whole fucking arsenal of perfectly clean boxer shorts at the ready. You go over to his wardrobe, open the appropriate drawer, and rummage through it to pick out two relatively dark colored pairs of designer shorts (purple, of course), ones that are made of some more reasonable fabric than silk (and which therefore seem like they probably are less likely to stain, although you don't know for sure because it's not like you're any kind of laundry detergent master or anything).

With swift, hatched-leaderish efficiency, you pull on the newly appropriated pair of boxers you selected for yourself. These have a nice little white seahorse pattern on a panel of deep violet: just fucking peachy, this way you can match with the pajamas. And now you turn back to Eridan, who it seems has shifted around a bit to watch you, his eyes wide and staring at you hungrily, with all of his inappropriately excessive adoration, and kinda creepily too if you are being perfectly honest with yourself, but also with this slightly hunched-over, protective posture, curled into himself with his arms wrapped around his legs, all huddled up and making himself small and also clearly doing his best to cover up whatever mess he made. Ahhh. 

You glance momentarily over at the screen of Eridan's computer, which has gone off into screen-saver mode. You sure left Gamzee and Feferi hanging over there. Oh well fuck it. They can continue hanging. With your usual stomping leaderly stride, you march over to Eridan and park your ass down right behind him, and swallowing and maybe feeling a touch of fluttery nerves or something yourself, you slowly reach around and hold him from behind, kind of awkwardly but that doesn't matter especially when he happens to be infinitely more awkward than you. For some moments you just stay like that, and you find yourself perhaps kissing his shoulder here and there a few times, a light soft press of your lips to his skin. Eridumbass here just needs to fucking calm his shit down, that's all. You grace him with a few more light glancing kisses, and it is possible you kiss up the side of his neck some, and it is even more possible that a sort of shooting fire of an unsettlingly good feeling flashes occasionally, right through your chest. Like a warm hurt. 

"Don't take another shower," you murmur into his skin, eventually, your voice thick. Eridan has only just now stopped shivering, is only now beginning to relax. "It's not necessary. Here." You have been continuing to hold onto the other pair of boxer shorts in one hand, even as you have him wrapped up in an embrace that just maybe is getting a bit tighter. You let go of the shorts; they drop carelessly onto his legs. "You can change into those right here. It's fine." You do not, however, let go of him.

 

 _It's fine_. Eridan feels some undefinable tension in him finally start to ebb away, both at Karkat's words and because of the comforting hug he's currently wrapped up in, the soft kisses getting pressed to his skin. Everything's fine. He'll put on the clean pants in a minute... he really wants to keep being held right now. Right now he's just really glad Kar's being so tender with him; it's fuckin reassuring.

"Thanks, Kar," he whispers. That doesn't really capture the full extent of his gratitude, though, so Eridan does his best to wipe his hands off on his thighs and then takes hold of Karkat's arms, sort of both awkwardly hugging him back and keeping him there at the same time. "That was... amazin." He licks his lips. "I'm not sure I should be sayin so, but my imaginings couldn't evver hold a candle to the real thing happenin right in front a me. You're just... _fuckin_ amazin, Kar."

He probably should have kept that to himself, but it's the godforsaken truth and he thinks Karkat should know it. And--ah, fuck it all. He should probably explain himself since he basically just admitted to imagining Karkat while he masturbates. Since before all this. At least it's... easier... having Kar close so he'll hear, but not having to see his face as he talks.

"Can I ask you somethin? Rhetorically speakin." He swallows, rubbing gently at Karkat's arm still wrapped around him. "Um. Havve you evver had feelins for someone for a really long time, but you didn't realize you had em cause you wwere too caught up in feelins for someone else?" That's... a start, anyway, Eridan thinks. "I'm askin cause I just... I thought matesprits an such wwere fated to be an all, but. Wwell. I thought I wwas fated for one person an turned out I wwas really fuckin wwrong."

The wrongest person who ever wronged, that was Eridan about Fef. But what if he was fated to be with Karkat all along? He's been realizing, with all his fuckin hard-earned hindsight, that he's had flushed feelings for Karkat for a damn long time. "Kar. I'm kinda scared I'm bein all wwrong again. But I'vve got hope. That's scary too, but in a good wway, if that makes a lick a sense. So. Thanks for that too."

There. That feels a lot better. Eridan lets out a breath, really hoping that all came across like he intended it to. "An you don't havve to say anythin by way a response. I just didn't wwant you thinkin I'm an upright pervvert for thinkin a you wwhile I... take care a myself. An comparin it to the real thing. It's not just that okay. So. Fuck, I'll shut up noww."

 

What the fuck is this moronically transparent, fakey fake so-called rhetoric?!??

You pause in the middle of what might just have been threatening to turn into a full-on open mouth neck kiss... look, see, right here? How your fucking tongue is pressed into what seems to be an especially kissable little spot right on the back of Eridan's douchey neck, just next to a tiny little violet freckle? You kind of stiffen up, freeze, although immediately you struggle to tamp down on your natural reaction. Not to make it go away altogether; that would be useless and besides it would be weirder if you _didn't_ happen to have any kind of noticeable reaction to this, right? Right? 

Oh god. Anyway. That... was _it_ , right there. Basically a straight-out and non-ambiguous confession of the flushed feelings you knew Eridan was experiencing anyway, with the bonus addition of some startling factoids about how Eridan might have maybe been having a sort of flushed attraction to you for some time now without even knowing it, all terribly and mega stupidly couched in an incredibly ridiculous "rhetorically speakin" opening conversational gambit. That is so fucking Eridan Ampora, right down to his idiotic wwavvery accent. It has you downright fucking gobsmacked.

For a moment you really do entertain the idea of not saying anything in return. Eridan himself gave you the goddamn fucking out, and you goddamn know for a fucking "scientifical" fact that there is no way he will hold it against you if you do, indeed, take him at his shitstained dumbass grubfuckingly honest word.

But human jesus fucking crispy frittergrubs. Who cares about what kind of a pass Eridan would give you, that doesn't even matter. "Ahh... I see. Okay," you murmur, and then resume your kisses, keeping them soft and thoughtful-like and also sort of full of weird unpleasant pangs and inexplicable longings. You can play the fakey fake rhetorical card, too. But first to answer his question: "Well... I have a lot of feelings," you begin. And then stop. Pause. 

You seem to be holding Eridan even a bit tighter, squeezing into him. That's okay, though... it wouldn't do to let Eridan abscond or anything, not after letting him drop a crap bombshell like that. That's all you're doing: keeping him from absconding. 

After a bit of aimless reflection that is strangely non-panicked (must be all the fucking trolldorphins flooding your goddamn thinkpan), you take a deep breath, swallow, and then continue. "I guess, it's always been hard? To decide what my feelings mean, and all that fucking shit." This isn't really directly related to Eridan's question. But it is directly related to your own personal experience. You take another deep breath. Press another vaguely possessive kiss somewhere nice on Eridan's skin. "You know, I was never in anything like your Feferi situation, except well maybe it was a little similar back with how I took so long to confess and then straighten out my feelings for Terezi and was a gigantic fucking tool about it too." 

Eridan sort of tenses up when you say Terezi's name. Shit. You hadn't meant to mention Terezi, not yet or in this sort of situation. Oh well. He needs to accept that she is really important to you and that you fucking love her to death. Well, preferably not to the death. Actually let's just leave death out if it. Anyway, it's fucking poor form to bring her up after what was indubitably a pretty damn flushed encounter, and for a romance god and a legendary troll romeo at the highest rung of his personal romance echeladder, you could be doing a lot better. 

Shape up, Vantas. You find it helpful, in order to get your shape up on, to sort of bury your face a little into Eridan's shoulder, and mumble some shit that he probably won't be able to interpret since you say it really low and directly into his skin: "Mmm sorry."

And clearer, after you turn your head a little: "Really, mmm, anyway. Well. It's kind of impossible to be wrong about feelings, I guess is my main point. There are other ways to be wrong, but feelings... just aren't fucking one of them." Speaking of… "'Rhetorically speaking'...uh, I guess it's possible maybe for trolls to have all kinds of feelings without really knowing what they are all about, and then things happen and you realize you've had those feelings for fucking ever and it's kind of all this laughably dumb prank, like something some idiot like John Fucking Egbert would hatch up." You shudder, only slightly, hopefully not enough for Eridan to notice although fuck he just twitched so clearly he noticed all too well. "Like I think sometimes there are lots of feelings that just need to be danced around and poked at carefully like you're torturing some kind of shell-less naked pillbug and it's kind of fragile and you don't want to kill it so you have to go real slow to make sure the torture takes, or whatever." 

Yep. That was some pretty fucking sick expert romantic rhetoric right there. You nod to yourself, and then go back to your slow, languorous searching kisses. Eridan's just not fucking absconding anywhere right now, end of story. 

 

All of that, that Karkat just said, it's a hell of a lot more than Eridan expected to hear, and is calling up a whole sea of questions he wants to ask and things he wants to say. Is... is that what Kar's doing now, poking at his feelings for Eridan until he's sure what the hell they mean? If it is, then Eridan thinks he better keep quiet and still so as not to scare him or those feelings off. He sort of leans back into Karkat, partly to show him he can do that, he can wait and he's not going anywhere, and partly because it just feels really fuckin good to be held so tightly. 

Maybe... maybe Kar's feelings for him are harder to 'torture' out from his feelings for Terezi. But then, it's also kind of reassuring to know it took a long time for Karkat to really straighten out his feelings for Terezi and to communicate them to her. That thought makes his bloodpusher clench, like all his thoughts regarding Kar's obvious and very deep feelings for Ter. That's something Eridan thinks he better keep to himself, though, so he doesn't fuck this up and upset Kar--it's not fair to tell him not to mention Ter. She's his fuckin _matesprit_. Most of the time he wouldn't mind Karkat going on about Terezi. But... when he's holding him, when they're sharing something dangerously concupiscent and flushed and so damn emotionally charged, Eridan just really wants to be the _only_ one on Kar's mind. Especially when it all seems so fragile and uncertain.

That's the kind of self-centered whiny pathetic douchebaggery he's trying hard to keep to a bare minimum at least, though. That's the kind of shit that Fef got so tired of dealing with. It'd probably go against Karkat's poly stuff too.

Eridan's not sure what he _should_ say now. Obviously all Kar's sharing needs a response. He's not stressing about it, though. Being embraced and showered in soft, tiny kisses has that kind of effect on a guy...

"Thanks for sayin all that, Kar," he says finally. "Especially the part about feelins bein somethin that can't be wwrong. An bein a surprise sometimes. It's reassurin as hell."

 

With clumsy brushes of your fingertips, you push back the loose collar of Eridan's flannel monstrosity of sleepwear. Not so easy to do, since you're still holding him in a pincer-grip and he's still pressing his hands down over your arms, encouraging you to keep at it. But well your one hand happens to be in the approximately correct vicinity, and his collar is _really_ loose (must have the top buttons unbuttoned too? Just like how he unbuttoned the bottom ones while you were giving him your show and fuck the sudden memory of that is sickeningly hot and you sort of shudder with a kind of turned-on aftershock ffff stop it vantas, shit). And you want to get at more of his skin, is that some kind of crime?

You shudder again, in self-righteous pulchritude this time, since god could you even be more awesome and hot and stuff? You think not. 

"You're the only one who ever appreciates how awesome I am all the time," you say, confessionally, maybe with a bit of an aggrieved sigh since it's kind of sad that no one else does, and you don't want to dwell on that side of things. But you're not sad or anything, shit, you're just kind of fucking _moved_ and well this is the sort of really emotionally open honest stuff you're really leery of saying to anyone else because experience has taught you that most everyone, even Terezi, tends to think of your deeply impressed appreciation of your own miraculously perfect hatched insight to be some kind of joke. Not Eridan, though. That's kind of the amazing thing. Never Eridan. 

Slowly, in some kind of strange lassitude of relief and... something else... you close your eyes, and continue with your deep, soft, open-mouthed exploring kisses. For a moment there is nothing but silence, because the second you hear Eridan take in a deep breath (clearly ready to babble on about in precise and embarrassing detail just how much he appreciates your awesomeness, with what you're sure would include no hint of amusement or mockery at all), you squeeze him even tighter, kind of encouraging him/warning him not to babble any more, he's just leaving himself way too open with all the crap he's spewing and he's said too much already, stuff you need to take a moment to process. You kiss down the back-angle of Eridan's shoulder, and then down further, into the clean, nicely fragrant crease behind his armpit where skin meets skin.

Eridan... thinks about you. While he takes care of himself. And... and, he's been doing that for a while. For some quiet intense moments, you let this fact truly seep into your consciousness. You'd been thinking that he couldn't have had any feelings for you at all before yesterday... but isn't it true that what he just said contradicts that assumption? You basically can't even handle the implications of this. It's way, way too hard to process. So you just keep kissing, carefully and maybe a bit tremblingly in the lips, seeping into Eridan as certain new ideas and possibilities seep into you. It's kind of scary, to be perfectly honest. Frightening and creepy and weird and probably kind of wrong. But... but...

"How long," you say, or ask, finally, voice barely stronger than a whisper, but harsher than ever. You give him another soft, leading kiss... flavored with another hint of warning, since you won't tolerate any bullshit in response to this very sincere and important and possibly critical question. You repeat yourself. "How long, Eridan?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emo feels, now with 100% more Dave Strider.

How long? The question kind of takes Eridan completely off-guard. It gives him something to think about, something to focus on as Karkat's wandering kisses continue making him feel like he's made of slowly melting warmth, like he could be sinking into sun-heated sand, warm water kissing his skin. Karkat _is_ awesome all the time. He really could go on at great length about his feelings on that matter. But that's not what Kar wants to hear right now. Which is fuckin unfortunate, since Eridan is realizing he doesn't really have an answer for him...

Eridan swallows, brushing his thumbs against the warm skin of Karkat's arms. He needs some time to think, but fuck he hopes Kar doesn't think he's hesitating or stalling--it's just... he's never given it much thought before. How long has he been flushed for Kar? It wouldn't be lying to say he only just realized _how_ ruddy his feelings are. But that wouldn't be the whole truth of it either, since that realization came with a sense that he's been harboring those feelings for a bloody long time. Maybe it'd be easier to answer in terms of how long he's been thinking of Kar while getting himself off. And that'd answer would be... shit. 

A damn lot longer than Eridan had even imagined.

When Eridan speaks, his voice is just as rough as Karkat's was. "It's... I been thinkin a you for swweeps, Kar. Swweeps an fuckin swweeps. You wwere alwways my goddamn hero a romance, you knoww. And. Wwell. I guess you'vve been in my thoughts at least since the game started..."

Kar said feelings can't be wrong. But fuckin hell, he hopes this confession doesn't scare him off. Even Eridan didn't realize he's been thinking of Karkat _like that_ at least since he was six sweeps old. Definitely since his disastrous confession to Fef. It was simpler, easier to think of Kar while taking care of himself, his feelings for him uncomplicated by the pain of rejection.

Eridan's bloodpusher is scudding in his chest too fast, way too fast. This is kind of overwhelming. "Kar." Oh god, oh god. Here's that fuckin moment, the one where he stupidly dives off the deep end. Not like he hasn't been dangling off it almost ever since Karkat got here anyway. "I'm not just flirtin here, I'm really fuckin red for you. An I don't knoww exactly howw long I'vve been feelin that way, but... a long time."

He's holding on to Karkat's arms now, unconsciously clinging so he won't let go, won't pull away just yet. "I knoww you're still thinkin. Just." He sighs. "Keep on thinkin about it."

As long as Kar doesn't go and reject him upright... he doesn't think he could handle that happening, not right now. "Okay?"

 

It takes almost no effort at all to nod into Eridan's back, squeezing him even tighter-- as tight as you can hold him, so tight it probably hurts, at least a little. Okay. Okay, you'll keep thinking. You will. You totally will. Except...

It's not planned, what you do next. But basically, since you can't burrow your face into Eridan's back any more than you have been, and since you've pretty much reached the limits on how hard you can hold onto him too, it feels pretty natural to hook your legs around Eridan's hips and into his lap, locking your body around his in a powerful crustacean-like grip, as if in preparation to devour him. You might actually want to devour him. You. You. You... it's disorienting and a little awful, how much you want to cling onto him right now, how tight and roughly you feel you need to squeeze him, digging in with all four of your remaining non-vestigial limbs, wishing with a sort of heaving emotional volatility that you still had your old grub claws since they made a lot of things easier but especially this, this clinging. 

Basically, you're overwhelmed here. Totally overwhelmed. None of any of that was anything you expected to hear, such as the firm no-bullshit reiteration of romantical intent or the sweet non-monomaniacal flash of un-Eridanlike (yet very welcome) reasonableness. But most of all and especially, the sheer scope of how long it's been that he's felt this way, it's really hitting you, and it hurts and hurts and hurts and _hurts_ and you don't know. You just don't know. 

Again without meaning to, but because of how natural it all feels, how inevitable... tears prick at the corner of your eyes and before long what starts out as a silent stream of tears becomes quiet sniffling and then muffled to-the-core sobs, because. Feelings. There are too many feelings here. Fuckdamn shitnooked incontinent bulge-spewing feelings. All your gross, cursed, rotten Karkat Vantas feelings, folded up into a bubbling slurry of belated guilt and shame.

Because beyond here, what's left? Your gross, horrible secret after all is that you never wanted to be poly-lovey to begin with. All this dumb poly-lovey bullshit is basically crap that Terezi foisted on you, and if Terezi had only been willing to have a regularly epic and singularly devoted _monogamous_ matespritship with you, you'd never have even considered doing what you're doing right now. You only ever wanted one matesprit, her, and it really fucking hurt to be forced to reconfigure your feelings this way. As if your love and pity were so debased and disposable. You did not want or need anyone else. You still don't need anyone else. Hell, the only reason you eventually, finally acted like you were even opening up to the idea was because you are stubborn and ornery and not at all threatened by Dave fucking Strider and were wanting her to know that. 

And yet, you're here. You're here with Eridan, clinging to him like a pestilent parasite. You declared to him the fact that you're open to having another matesprit, while just happening not to mention that you were never at all actually serious about it. 

Continuing to bury your face into Eridan's back, you keep holding him in this death beetle grip you've got going on, crying semi-quietly. Because see, that's just the thing. That's exactly why you avoided Douchescar Ampora here like the plague for so long. It wasn't just the fact that you were furious with him, although you were. 

No. It's because you were special to him. It's because you _knew_ , in some hazy and undefined way, that you were special to him. And you were committed, _committed_ , to not fucking with his feelings. 

You didn't want this miserable awful fucking psychopath to be alone, you really didn't, but... you weren't going to embroil Eridan in your covertly insecure, completely needy little matespritship games, either.

So why are you here? What... what do you really want? 

All through your tears, you keep pressing small needy little kisses onto Eridan's bare skin. Not once during this whole inane mental exercise of recounting your personal feelings have you stopped with these small, soft needy little kisses. Not even once. 

 

"Sshh. Shoosh. Kar, it's okay." Oh god. Eridan just doesn't know what he's supposed to do or even say in a situation like this. It's his fault Kar's crying, he's sure. He's got to do somethin to make it better, or at least not fuck it up too much worse. "You don't havve to think about it noww if it's upsettin you. Just, stop cryin. It's kinda scarin me."

Karkat can just keep on kissing his back and clinging hard enough it's making his gills and ribs ache. Somehow it's both reassuring and alarming at the same time. Reassuring because it's a really fuckin concentrated tangible way for Eridan to know Kar _cares_. A fuckin _lot_. Alarming because he's clearly also in a goddamn ton a distress.

"I can wwait, if it means maybe someday you'll be--" Eridan bites his lip. Shit. Hold on, that's sounding too fuckin presumptuous, like he thinks if he waits long enough Kar will decide he loves him that deeply too. Even Eridan knows how stupid that is. He clears his throat and tries again. "I mean. I can wwait regardless a wwhat may come. An... fuck."

Why is this so hard? Eridan's throat is closing up and it's getting hard to breathe, not just from the crushing hug. "I promise. Evven if you decide... you don't wwant..." He swallows. He is not gonna cry, not when he's the one trying to do the comforting right now. "Evven then, I wwon't make the same mistakes I did before. I fuckin swwear it."

Fuck. Eridan's body is betraying him; even as he tries to hold it all in, it's shaking him apart. He hopes, desperately if he's honest with himself, that Karkat will someday want to be his matesprit too. And he's going to just take his own advice and not think about what might happen if Kar never does, beyond promising not to fly off the fuckin handle if that's how it ends up. "So. Fuckin shoosh."

 

"Don't you fucking shoosh me, mister douchefins fuckwad," you respond immediately, nearly instantaneously, scolding Eridan pretty much on autopilot. Your words here should carry extra weight because of you being all in emotional extremis and all, but of course you suspect they don't, because of how your words also happen to come out all crumpled and limp and wet, like a used snot rag. Humiliating. If you cared. 

This does weirdly and perversely remind you of that first time you kissed Terezi and broke into sobs because of how happy you were. Like, this is a way different feeling but it's not sadness that's making you cry, it's not even fucking regret. Well, maybe there's some regret over the past but it's not like you are regretting being here now. Perhaps you are feeling some sort of weird unfortunate pre-regret in the form of apprehension over ending up making the wrong choice and having to live with the consequences of such a wrong choice forever... except that with Eridan, one of the appalling facts is that for him at least, there is no "wrong choice." He'll wait for you if you tell him to wait. Fuck. he'll...

Oh shit. You briefly have the fantasy imagining of you telling Eridan no. Of you pulling back slowly, giving him some kind of careful rejection that would be everything a rejection should be, of you walking out of Eridan's life right now after making promises, assurances that it's not going to change the newfound broship you currently share. Of Eridan standing on his dock, standing there alone and without waving or anything as you sail away back home, with a stupid wavering broken little smile on his face after telling you how he understands he fuckin swwears. A fresh wave of tears hits you, more violent than before. 

"You don't get it," you mumble in a rather muffled way since your face is way buried into Eridan's back, rubbing your nose into Eridan's utterly ridiculous (but somehow offensively cute?) flannels. Which are now sopping wet with your dump pink tears. "I don't want to shoosh, Eridan...uh, babe," you say, swallowing all sticky-like in your voice. Babe. Is that really what you're calling him now? Wow, yes, that is really what you are calling him now. Wow. "I didn't really come here to flirt with you, you know." 

In semi-sorta keeping with what you just said, you make a conscious effort to loosen up your hold some, so it's not so tight, giving Eridan a chance to make some moves if he wants which you guess is something ~~you really fucking want~~ you'd maybe like to see. 

 

"I knoww," Eridan says, his voice rough. He hasn't forgotten Kar's original purpose for visiting was 'cause he had nothing better going on. 'Cause his matesprit was doing her poly thing with Dave. And 'cause Fef pestered him to. But even though flirting was definitely not in the plan, it sure is happening a lot. Flirting, making out, fuckin almost pailing, and now...

Kar called him _babe_. Called him by name and _then_ called him babe, even; not like before when he caught himself saying it and changed his mind. He's going to upright treasure this. Even though Karkat still needs time to decide, Eridan sure can't deny he's got a fuckin lot to hope for. Absolutely all of this entire visit has been a huge damn wonderful surprise to Eridan. Has it been for Kar too? Is that what he's getting at?

Karkat's easing grip on him makes Eridan suddenly aware of how tightly he'd been clinging onto Karkat's arms. He relaxes his grip, tries to rub away the marks he might have left, but--ah fuck it--it's not enough. So he lifts Karkat's hands to his lips, one at a time, covering each in tender kisses, soothing and full of feeling like the ones Kar's been covering his back with. "You're not..." Eridan pauses, pressing a more tentative kiss into the palm of Karkat's hand. "...You're not gonna stop flirtin noww, are you?"

Okay, there's kind of a lot Eridan doesn't get right now, aside from Kar not wanting any shooshing. Maybe... maybe if he could see Karkat's face, he'd understand better what he's feeling. He gives Karkat's hands one last kiss each, then lets them go. Gently, he runs his hands over Karkat's calves and carefully lifts them over his own thighs. There, now he can wiggle and shift until he's facing Karkat, lifting his own long legs over Karkat's. Eridan's bloodpusher gives a tug as he sees what a mess Kar is, hair mussed and face flushed and covered in the pink smears of his tears. He's fuckin adorable even like this. Softly Eridan cups Karkat's cheek, wiping at the tears with his thumb.

 

"You dumb idiot," you sob, tilting your head upwards and closing your eyes since experience has taught you that gravity sort of makes it harder for your overenthusiastic tear ducts when the copious tears really decide to flow, which they decided to do the second Eridan asked if you were going to stop flirting, and you and your tear ducts have been at war for many sweeps now so you believe in giving them as hard a time as is trollianly possible, always.

Anyway. Um. Are you going to stop flirting? Is he fucking _kidding_? What the hell, why is this turning into such a pathetic lame farce of of stupidity anyway? But whatever, whatever, fine, you don't care, _you just don't okay_ , it's just that you feel like it's important not to give your tear factory glandules any kind of traction so hell yeah you're going to give your excretory organelles some kind of motherfucking marathon workout here and yep, your name is Karkat Vantas, and you mix metaphors like a motherfucking pro. "You dumb, dumb, dumb idiot," you add, after a big protest-sniffle and another suspiciously sob-like noise coming from deep in your throat. "You... dumb-dumb idiot..."

There. That kind of says it all, really. 

Eridan just takes the next few moments to wipe away more tears, ending up cupping your cheeks with both hands when it finally fucking dawns on him what overachieving assholes the fucking sadness sacs of your ganderbulbs really are, trying with futility to keep up with the gross superproduction of tears vomiting out of your body in a peri-ocular excess display of acceptable emotional probity. Wisely, he says nothing. He is really stupidly tender and careful and you can feel his adoration and his alarm fucking transmitting directly through his idiot thumbs on your face, and he is so careful and scared of being wrong that he does't do one single thing more, and for a while just the thought of _that_ makes you stormily cry some more for even longer... for what feels like millennia on end (except it's probably actually only a few minutes)... and you give the fuck up and decide to let you cry yourself out, which eventually you do, and it's in a state of really bitter self-judgement and self contempt that you basically finally give up on fighting it. 

You cry, loudly and freely, until you stop.

This is. Just like. That time with Terezi. Your first time. When you fucking cried. And cried and cried and cried. You refuse to believe it possible that you could even be any more contemptible. At the end of your tears, you finally open your eyes, and lean forward putting your forehead on Eridan's chest, and when you look down you see it all, the huge seeping stain of blacker purple on his purple boxers, aka his come, and you notice how the boxers you helpfully went to provide for him got somehow crumpled and set aside and have some stains on them too, shit, and your breathing calms enough so that you can hear the hitched, nervous, longing way Eridan is breathing too (a strange sound with a strange humming quality to it, likely related to how his dumb neck gills are flaring out a little too).

You are too much of a legendary badass and a proud warrior to apologize for all of that, so you don't. Spontaneous emotional outbursts from you are a thing Eridan is just going to have to accept if the two of you eventually do become matesprits... the thought makes you shiver, since it's like a part of you resigned yourself to it becoming a reality without you even realizing it and no, you won't accept that, it won't happen because you're "resigned..." and you open your mouth and are about to say some forgettable nonsense but then your internal combusting digestion chamber (aka, your "stomach") takes this moment, unexpectedly, to rumble. Wow, fuck. Fuck. Wow. 

Anyway, your cheeks flare with heat, but that does serve to remind you. "Uh... Eridan... did that food get ruined or what?"

It's not like... you're not trying to derail this or anything, okay? And the second Eridan makes what feels like some kind of panicked pre-motion to get up and check, you grab at his arms, both of them, and pinch them hard and tight to keep him from moving. "If it's ruined, it's ruined," you amend, more mumbling on your part what the hell. "I just mean... damn, I didn't mean to get your food ruined and all. Anyway... yeah, we'll keep flirting and I'm... uh. I'm thinking, okay?" You take a deep, haggard, horribly emotionally exposed breath. Um. Yeah. "I'm thinking."

 

Why the fuck does _that_ make Eridan's bloodpusher seize up and his breathing even more anxious and harsh? Karkat thinking about being his matesprit right this minute should be a good thing, and so's the flirting still... wonderful as it is, it's still goddamn terrifying somehow. Kind of makes Eridan feel even more like he's gotta not screw this up, which is scary in that he has _absolutely no fuckin clue what the hell he's doing_. How's he supposed to show Kar he'd be a good matesprit when it was by sheer dumb idiot luck he managed to wait out the crying without making it worse? All he could do was keep his big dumb mouth shut and just fuckin stupidly wish at Kar to stop leaking his overwhelming feelings everywhere. Yeah. Fuckin A-plus matesprit material right there. He'd have to be the biggest moron to expect Kar to be flushed for that.

But... Kar trusted him with that cresting emotional tide. That has to be a huge fuckin deal, yeah? It's fuckin massive. So does that make Eridan even more of a dumb, dumb, dumb idiot for being so anxious still when Karkat's sharing so much of himself like he never has before? God, Eridan doesn't know.

"Thanks, Kar," he says, swallowing roughly. "Means a lot." He licks his lips and leans in to plant a soft kiss to the corner of Karkat's mouth, tasting the sweet salt of Kar's tears. It's an effort not to add 'but don't think too fast'. That'd be totally selfish of him, since Eridan would just be asking to put off hearing a 'no' or 'I don't feel the same'. "Means more than I can fuckin say."

Why's it gotta _hurt_ so much to have hope?

It's kind of a relief to have something uncomplicated to latch onto, something that doesn't involve that sick sense of hope and fear, something he can actually _deal_ with. Food. His carefully prepared dinner might very well be ruined now, but he can still find _something_ to fill Karkat's belly. And his own. Fuck, Eridan's hungry. And disgustingly damp and messy still. 

"I'll go make us somethin else to eat," he says, feeling his cheeks and auricular fins heating up again as he glances around, catching sight of the now-dirtied state of his fresh shorts... and his pail still half-full of Karkat's genetic material. "An clean up. You, ah, you can... do wwhat you wwant. Wwith that." He glances at the pail again, then drops his gaze. God, that is never not going to make him inappropriately proud and aroused, even though he doesn't feel like he can really lay claim to the contents. "I guess you probably wwant to be gettin back to your convversations, too..."

 

The kiss to the side of your mouth just makes you want more kissing, but you're not really ready to initiate any more of that, not after formally announcing your intention to think things out this instant. So all you do when your dumb mer-troll kisses you is bump into him as he does it, pushing your cheek into his lips with a righteously ridiculous little whine (one so ridiculous you can't even believe such a terrible atrocious fucking noise came from your own personal carapace, which is dumb because of course it did, who else is whining here...? Well, besides Eridan, whose whine has a totally unique and different treble to it, very identifiably his, being all warbly and somehow half-accented-- even though it's just a sound!-- and shit). 

You hope that maybe you push hard enough to bruise his lips a little with the power of your fucking face. But sadly, this is unlikely. 

Regardless, and probably thankfully, Eridan distracts you from certain of your current woes by making all that noise about cleaning up and leaving and shit. Nonsense. Total nonsense. Doesn't this dumb idiot mer-troll of yours here get that this is exactly the worse fucking moment to get up and leave? Seriously, the exact worst. It's fucking notarized and everything. Besides it's not like you're even that hungry really, you ate a lot at breakfast earlier, after all... two servings, in fact... and the food was just going to be something to occupy the two of you anyway, prior to commencement of the _true_ munching main event, which was (and is still going to be, so help you god) the upcoming romantical movie night and all. 

And hell yes, you grouch privately to yourself in the silence of your own mind-- "romantical." So fucking what if that's an Eridan word and you think it's really dumb and all that he made up such a terrible idiotic word, it's just proof that he's the biggest moron of all time. Hell fucking yes re: so fucking what. You're gonna keep saying "so what" to yourself up here in the privacy of your own thinkpan until you fucking finally believe it, and maybe someday you'll even do what Jade has been tirelessly coaching you about: learn how to just fucking take a chill pill already. 

At least the fact that Eridan is worse about taking a chill pill than you are makes for a bit of smug superiority-complex-induced cold comfort.

So anyway, you shake your head sharply at Eridan: no. "No" for going to make/find food for the two of you to eat, and double "no" for the cleaning up. You take a glance down again, looking at the mess of Eridan's pants. You guess you can't entirely blame a pailing virgin like Eridan for being so unnecessarily caught up in excessive and unnecessary cleanliness since that's probably a pride thing or something, but of course you're not going to enable that nonsense, no fucking way. Casually, as if it's no thing (even though it's really a huge thing and your bloodpusher is pounding very hard in your thoracic cage as you do it), you place your hand down really lightly (almost not even touching but okay you can feel the chill warmth in your fingertips like some kind of bonfire of the inanities or something) on the squishy wet, slimy surface of Eridan's boxer. "No," you say out loud, firmly.

Eridan proceeds to fucking freak out a little, as expected, meaning he practically hyperventilates and collapses right then and there, like the stubborn prissy little nook-cherry he is, and his dumb response tempts you to respond dumbly in return (by going whole squiddle and fucking fondling his sopping retracted bone bulge or something), but you manage to valiantly deny yourself (and him too you guess) the pleasure and instead stroke upside his body with both hands, a wandering but also firmly demanding touch that silently tells him to stay put. You end you pressing, commanding exploration by squeezing his shoulders slightly. 

"Mer-babe, stay put," you murmur finally, and then with reluctance stand up, stretch yourself out (and readjust the borrowed boxers a little because mmm you're kind of a bit turned on), an action that causes you to feel the need to shoot a bit of a warning glare at Eridan's now upturned-face (he really can't stop looking at you, god). "Eridumb-dumb..." you say, making sure to let your warning feeling seep into your voice too. "I mean it." He had better fucking stay put. Without further ceremony, you walk over to Eridan's computer, and then kick the chair to the side (it rolls away on it's little wheels in a satisfying way), and stand in front of it, shaking the mouse to disengage the screensaver, and then getting down to (hasty) business.

OKAY WHATEVER THIS SESSION IS NOW CLOSED SOME KIND OF ASSHOLE FLIRTING IS GOING ON NOW I GUESS, you shout-type at all your friends and hate-crushes and the like, effectively dropping the bomb of Confessing Shenanigans at all and sundry. Since you'd gone quiet they'd all gone quiet as well, eventually, looks like, and you stand up straight, cross your arms impatiently, and tap your foot while waiting for everyone to stop whatever bullshit they got up to in your absence and get back to the only thing that _really_ matters here: you.

And you have to admit it: moments after typing that, you nearly have some kind of lame-o breakdown or something like that because it sort of seeps into your consciousness that damn, that was kind of like uh... what do idiot humans like idiot Egbert call it, again? Oh yeah. That was kind of like some kind of ASSHOLE RUMPUS COMING-OUT PARTY except that it's not about copping to some retarded human sexuality nonsense related to arbitrarily gender-biased concupiscent feelings, BUT RATHER you're coming out about the rather inconveniently embarrassing fact that you're attracted to Eridan Ampora of all people, Acknowledged Undatable Genocidal Loser or whatever all the various Eridan objections are, and well... 

You wait and kind of panic quietly to yourself because that was an un-resettable land mine you just fucking triggered, right there, and it is possible that all of your friends will judge you forever (well except for Gamzee who certifiably Gives No Shits), and even though the prospect of their eternal judgment just makes you want to hunker down in some kind of defensive trench warfare since It's Your Life And They Can't Tell You What To Do With Your Life and all that... well, okay fine you do care what they think of you, especially Terezi since she might be okay with it but that wouldn't stop her from making fun of you if she found it hilarious, and also especially Sollux because ditto (and wow yeah it's weird and unsettling how Terezi and Sollux are So Shittily Alike in how much they like to laugh at you god they are such shitty, awful people, why do you even love, er... LIKE them so much except you actually DO love Terezi so what you really mean is you Don't Love Sollux and no, no, yes, you don't even Hate Love Sollux, not really, so)

... shut up inner monologue, shut _up_ argh oh no what is even why are you so fucked up are they all going to hate you now? Please don't let them all hate you now oh god please no 

CC: !!!!!!!!!  
CC: Karcrab 38D!!! ----Eeee!!!! <3  
CC: karcrab karcrab karcrab karcrab <3 <3 <3 GLUB GLUB GLUB GLUB!!!! 38D  
GG: !!!!!!!!!  
GG: karkat!!!! <3   
GG: karkat karkat karkat karkat ha ha  
GG: i guess you don't need to hate marry yourself after all!! what with having a girlfriend and a pale bro-boyfriend and all.  
GG: and now this!!!  
GG: I AM JUST HAPPY OKAY YOU ARE REALLY TOO SILLY FOR ME TO PROCESS BUT THIS IS GREAT NEWS, RIGHT?! GREAT GLUBBING NEWS!!! FEFERI AM I RIGHT???  
CC: SH----ELL YES YOU ARE RIGHT!!!! 38D  
EB: what wait... wow  
EB: really i guess i did not suspect this but yay I think?  
EB: can I tell Vriska I want to tell Vriska  
EB: ha ha but anyway this is great   
EB: i love how everyone is hooking up all the time right and left and stuff anyway, seriously it's awesome  
EB: i wish i understood it better myself tho, and i sort of feel kind of left out sometimes but yeah nevermind it's not like *you* care about that haha and i don't want to be a douchy downer or anything.  
EB: like, mostly this just comes out of the blue?  
EB: but of course i am not going to be the douche to get all emo if this is good news  
EB: I guess it is good news since Jade and Feferi think so but... is it good news Karkat I want to make sure!  
EB: you're my best troll bro after all i need to be sure :3  
GG: SHUT UP JOHN >:E  
GG: sorry karkat john is a stupid poopy pants baby who doesn't know what love is  
EB: WHAT I SO KNOW WHAT LOVE IS

And it goes on and on and your bloodpusher thrumps a little because stupid fucking Egbert has a putridly diabolical way of aggravating you forever but also there's nothing from Gamzee or Terezi or Sollux yet... 

 

Eridan stares at Karkat standing in front of his computer, shifting uncomfortably even though he's trying his best to stay put as was demanded of him. The temptation to at least get up and go change out of his soaked, clammy pants is fuckin strong; what's Kar got against being in dry, clean clothes anyway? But... fuck. Kar even... he _touched_ the dirtiest, most shameful part of Eridan like it was no big deal. Like he didn't care. And, okay, obviously Karkat's not even half so fastidious as Eridan is, but... it feels like there's more to it than that. Eridan's head is still reeling from it all so he's not sure he's even thinking clearly, but it's almost as though Kar was telling him he's fine just as he is. 

All of him. Even the unsavory, annoying, shameful parts.

That's probably not what Karkat meant, but just the thought that maybe he did is enough to make Eridan's eyes sting. But he's not fuckin gonna cry. He's going to swallow until the lump in his throat goes away and take deep breaths until his gills stop burning from involuntarily trying to help his lungs out. Shakily, Eridan draws his legs up to his chest, hugging his knees. He won't move.

He watches Karkat, trying to gauge his expression. It's kind of fuckin nerve-wracking, sitting here watching and wondering if Kar's thinking about his confession even now... and how the conversation on that screen is going to affect him.

 

While waiting for your three indolent commentary-stragglers with increasing impatience and also with a metaphorical frog in your throat, you glance several times over at Eridan, all huddled and miserable and shamed (and stupidly hot) there in the middle of the room, and Eridan's quite obvious terror and apprehension just fucking stirs your impatient anxiety into a real fucking frenzy (like piranhas or some shit yeahhh you are great at fish metaphors you seriously are. Not.). "I'm almost done," you sort of mumble sideways at Eridan. "I'm telling them that we're flirting that's all, the end!" 

You can't look to see how Eridan responds to that particular bombshell. Maybe he doesn't want you telling everyone about the flirting if you haven't made a matespritship decision yet, since what if you don't decide his way? You know how hard he takes some things, and he's even more attached to his own points of pointless pride than you are, so whatever, you can't look, he's probably freaking out even more and fine, fine, _whatever_ , let him freak out. Let him freak all the fuck the way out, if he has to. You still can't look. 

Where _is_ fucking everybody? Ignoring the ongoing stupid Jade and John quarrel going on in the main chat, you look at your other open chat windows. Terezi is still fucking idle. Feferi is going on at you now gushingly in private, and it's all just basically this huge confessional now on her part, and jesus fucking squiddle christ, why has she decided that _now_ is the right fucking time to unload all of her way ridiculous Eridan feelings and concerns and she's so overinvested, it's just sad. You tersely interrupt her and ask her if she minds if you take this up with her fucking later and she responds in the chipper affirmative and whatever, you know that she loves Eridan in this truly fucked-up eternally platonic way that is obviously some form of dumb overcompensation and well fine, at least someone has always been on his side, right? At least there's fucking that. Bye Feferi. Most inexplicable and not-like-you best friend ever. You click the x to close her out. 

Finally, you poke at Gamzee in your own private chat window with him. You're gonna have to fucking log off soon even if no one else replies since you're not the kind of douche who leaves people hanging forever especially not people who are probably quietly busting an aneurysm off silently in the corner or whatever, like what you imagine (with all sorts of unwelcome throbbing hurtful chest pangs) Eridan is basically doing right now. He's all wHoOpS sOrRy MoThErFuCkEr WaS cOmPoSiNg SlAm PoEtIcAlS wItH TaVbRo HeRe and testily you yell at him DID YOU SEE WHAT I SAID IN THE BIG CHAT? and Gamzee is all like hElL yEs I dId MoThErFuCkEr, ThAt'S aLl KiNdS oF wIcKeD cOoL fIsH pRiNcE iS rEaL hOt DiDn'T yOu KnOw? And you are all, YOU NOOKWAFFLE WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING SAY ANYTHING THEN AND F U EVERYONE KNOWS HE IS HOT WELCOME TO THREE SWEEPS AGO. And then Gamzee is all OoPs My BeSt ShOuTy BrO, i DiDn'T sAy NoThIn? And you have to inform him NO YOU FUCKING DID NOT and he is all Ha Ha Ha GuEsS i KiNdA kIcKeD tHaT sHiT hArDcOrE and you say SHUT UP and then WELL WHAT DO YOU THINK? and he is all BoUt WhAt? and you type-yell ABOUT ERIDAN!!!! and he is all FlIrTiNg Is A mOtHeRfUcKiNg MiRaCle BrO and you are all GOD I HATE YOU THAT ISN'T EVEN WHAT I MEAN but before you can type more he says jK i KnOw :o( and you relent and are all DON'T MAKE THAT FACE AT ME I'M SORRY and then he says

TC: WelL yOu KnOw BeTtEr ThAn Me ThAt It'S a TeRrIbLe IdEa  
TC: bUt ThEn  
TC: So Is BeIn PaLe WitH mOtHeRfUcKiNg Me  
TC: HoNk  
TC: FoLlOw YoUr HeArT mAn  
TC: JuSt FoLlOw YoUr HeArT  
TC: :o)

Which of course just makes you blush harder than a nook-cherry pail virgin and then you say OKAY and then it's just some pale flirting for a minute or two there and you're all comforted and shooshed and it allows you to dare take a peek over at Eridan. "It's... it's not a bad thing, me telling them we're flirting," you say really excessively mumbly and abashedly, way more mumbly than even before. Eridan is staring back at you, wide-eye and wibbly and wow, fuck him, he looks stupidly cute right now. You want to go over there and go back to kissing him immediately. "Just a minute more okay? Just checking in with one more person..."

And then you open up Terezi's chat window to take a peek. It's still idle. Your bloodpusher aches. Should you?

No. You have a policy about this. 

You decide that you'll catch up with her later. You want to know her feelings but also you don't want to force her to say them and anyway she wasn't the one more person you meant anyway. You go over to your Trollian chat client and are about to click on one name, but then as if by fucking telepathy, the person you were going to troll opens up a window to you instead. 

TA: you're 2eriiou2.  
TA: and beefore you 2ay anythiing embara22iing and prediictably awful, 2top. ii already know you're 2eriiou2.  
TA: eriidan'2 dangerou2 dude  
TA: but  
TA: well  
TA: he *ii2* hot ha ha  
TA: 2o there'2 alway2 that  
TA: al2o ff ii2 over the moon2 over there on her dumb tablet oh god kk why doe2 2he u2e 2uch a 2hiit tablet omfg that ii2 the reel que2tiion here...  
TA: help me overthrow her dumb tablet wriite a viiru2 oop2 ii mean "bada22 2criipt" two make iit better  
TA: 2eriiously what ii2 up wiith her she iis giiggliing liike a true iidiiot  
TA: driive2 me nut2  
TA: well not really but  
TA: anyway ii 2uck ii know  
TA: e2peciially at romantiic 2hiit  
TA: and mo2tly don't giive any 2hiit2 about eriidan the lo2er alway2 wa2 a lo2er you know thii2 iit ii2 not new2  
TA: but he can't be the total wor2t ii gue22 iif ff 2tiill liike2 hiim  
TA: good luck dude.  
TA: better you than me lol.  
TA: that2 MY opiiniion  
TA:

Fucking fuck. Sollux is fucking terrible. The fucking worst.

You get super warm and tingly all the fuck over and take the next couple minutes composing a totally masterful put-down of a reply, it's really epic and scathing and perfect and continue to feel warm everywhere, right down to the fucking shriveled-up stunted cockles of your gross mutant heart. It's great, so great, and you almost get lost in what you're typing, but fortunately you made it impossible to get totally lost by kicking the chair away, which means you can't sit down and go into full-on CarcinoEpicranticus mode. Eridan is waiting. And not moving. And likely for sure freaking out. 

And you've left him hanging for long enough. 

But before you log off with him and get back to flirting and.... other things, and after you close out all the rest of your chat windows, including Gamzee's, you get one truly last-second under-the-wire private message. 

TG: hey there  
TG: i know it's not me you are waiting for and sorry for that  
TG: but i have a message to pass on, from our mutual girlfriend, so try not to bite off the head of the messenger okay? especially since i think it's good news and nothing to freak out about.  
TG: terezi wants me to congratulate you  
TG: specifically (and i'm not going to use her dumb typos or whatever to pass it on since she's sitting right next to me and said it all out loud- in between her laughs oh god she can't stop laughing but don't freak out it's the delighted with her own cleverness laugh not the sad insane psycho laugh):  
TG: "my babys leveled up"  
TG: she's busy making some kind of art response about it right now  
TG: get ready she's drawing you a whole motherfucking webcomic  
TG: "my baby my hero" that is what it's called  
TG: for serious  
TG: I threw up in my mouth a little but hey guess what she means that in the best possible way it's totally obvious  
TG: she's happy  
TG: happy for you  
TG: seems you flirting with fish douche over there has been her plan all along "he loves him dave" she tells me as if I didn't already know it  
TG: guess you're finally opening up the cockles of your gross mutant heart?  
TG: anyway she is preparing for you some kind of art masterpiece and wants me to tell you  
TG: "he's an idiot after your own heart karkles" and "go for it."  
TG: so, go for it i guess?  
TG: i still don't really get your troll romance shenanigans but whatever that fish prince has got some kind of fine fish ass and so enjoy fucking his fish pussy or whatever it is you're getting up to (take pics). also, terezi is so totally naked right now. she's drawing lewd pictures of you and she's naked and touching herself god i think she is certifiably the best girlfriend ever  
TG: anyway have fun penisbreath. good luck and fuck that fish prince hard. pop his fish cherry like a fucking fish spunk pustule. gonna write a rap about your new fish love get ready the beat is gonna be rad and totally fish-thumping. ride him like a seahorse stallion. i...  
TG: wow i'm kind of rusty on my fish imagery gonna get working on that stat  
TG: ttyl  
TG: #distracted #fish slam poetry #the best #it's me

 

Eridan is freaking out. Extremely quietly and unobtrusively, this whole time, which is an upright fuckin feat that Kar should really be proud of him for. 

No fuckin wonder Karkat was looking kind of anxious over there if he was telling everyone about their flirting. Eridan's not stupid--he knows what kind of reaction something like that's bound to get. It all runs through his mind as he watches Karkat, everyone telling Kar how crazy he must be. Or reminding him how Eridan flirts with fuckin anyone he's got a passing acquaintance with (and if he thinks about it, it doesn't really make it any better that he wasn't ever really serious about it with anyone else, does it?). Then there's the fact that he's basically the wworst person ever. Fuck, Eridan even manages to half convince himself that Kar would be making a huge mistake even just flirting with him, let alone agreeing to a bloody matespritship. 

At least Karkat has decided not to mention his confession to anyone else. Eridan hugs his knees tighter and bites his lip. If it comes to it, maybe they can just keep that a secret between them. He doesn't want to have to deal with everyone laughing behind his back about it after Kar rejects him. Or to his face. Well, over the internet... not like anyone else has ever come to see him in person here after all.

Except then Karkat says it's not a bad thing, him telling everyone they're flirting, and he says it all mumbly and cute and shy-like. And okay, Eridan's still freaking out, but at least Kar seems less anxious than he did before. That's good. Eridan will just have to trust Karkat that it's not a bad thing; he's not about to go onto Trollian any time soon. This thing with Karkat, it's serious and it's got him worked way the hell up, and there's not anyone he really wants to talk to about it except for Kar himself. Kar's always been the only one who ever really listened to Eridan anyway.

Despite his reassurance, Eridan's holding his breath as Karkat finishes up on the computer and finally starts making his way back over toward Eridan. Right then Eridan wishes he had a scarf on him, just to have something less fragile than his own lip to worry between his teeth. "Evverythin okay, Kar?" he asks softly, blinking back a watery violet haze as Karkat approaches. "You're... sure?"

 

You are staring hard into Eridan's eyes, like, _hard_ , but your nod in reply to his question is absent, distracted, as you kneel in front of him. Strider's words from his last second message-bomb have been slowly sinking in and are still in the process of sinking in, since he said a lot of bullshit as per usual except this time its a lot of especially pertinent bullshit since it involves Terezi. The fact of her rolling around naked and touching herself while drawing comics of you being her hero is barely a blip of what's consuming you... you're entirely used to that, her super shocking levels of idiocy and sexual hippiedom hardly even faze you anymore except to give you lots of fond and hot feelings since she's basically like a really cute and infuriating megalomaniac psycho pixie-troll and she is _your_ really cute and infuriating megalomaniac psycho pixie-troll. Couldn't fucking ask for more.

Except... well, now you could have two of them? Eridan _does_ happen to be infuriatingly adorable when he's all wibbling like a freak like he is now, bottom lip all trembling and shit (and all fucking shredded with worrying, too. Idiot). And of course he hits the megalomaniac mark dead to rights as well. And... Terezi is clearly advocating for it, hard, in her mysterious and manipulative way (also as per usual). It's just... you don't get it. It even kind of hurts, for her to be so cheerfully okay about it, and although that is also not new information, being reminded of it doesn't feel great. It just, once again, reminds you of how your fucking lifelong ~ath curse is still an active and dominant force in your life, because there is not a single shred of happiness you can have that isn't somehow tainted with regrets and loss and shame. Terezi, fair enough, has always been clear on one thing: she'll never, ever, ever be "all yours." Not how you always wanted. Not now, how you still want. 

Being reminded of that always, always, always hurts.

But it also makes you feel kind of grim, and activates your well-exercised self-loathing, kicking it up to the highest gear. You can feel this darkening mask of grimness overtaking your expression, and you can regret that too, since it makes you glower and you glowering right now isn't going to help fucking Eridan and his fucking insecurities one bit, but you can't really help it, any more than he can help his dumbass fish wibbles, probably. To temper your glowering expression, and because you kind of have to and really want to, you pat his cheeks and then start petting his face, thumbing his lips with both hands and gently exploring his dumb insecurities as if they were some kind of palpable thing, which wouldn't you fucking know, they fucking _are_ , look at them they're written all over his idiot face.

"You should know," you say, continuing to stare lasers into Eridan's eyes, otherwise totally mentally distracted in your own personal morass of dumb idiot feelings, "just for the record, that I'm a worthless shitstain of a troll and always will be, and this is not a point that I want you to argue and if you try it will just basically piss me off. So, don't." God, he really is cute, so infuriatingly cute, all wet-eyed and apprehensive like this, and it makes you feel like some kind of dark torturer or something in how you are enjoying it, his pain and worries, because no, you really don't want him to be like that, you're going to reassure him, you _are_ , but... there are hard and serious things that you need to say to him, too, and it's stuff he really should not fight you about, because you had to do a lot of fucking Jade-directed soul-searching to reach this level of higher consciousness and self awareness and you're not going to let some well meaning, adoring bullshit on Eridan's part distract you from what's true about yourself and your cursed destiny and stuff. If... if he really wants to be your matesprit, then this is all stuff he just needs to learn to roll with. 

It sucks, but there it is.

So you continue, taking the opportunity to try to appease some of Eridan's widening-eyed increased freaking out by leaning in and planting a soft light kiss on one of his cheeks, and wouldn't you know, as soon as you lean in you find that you can't move away, and your fingers are kind of trembling as you hold onto his face, and decide to continue your revelations by speaking directly into his skin, since it feels warm and comforting like that. "Hold me though, please." Dutifully- no, scratch that, super eagerly- Eridan wraps his arms around you, and that helps you to go on. "I never wanted to be poly-lovey," you admit, and this is kind of a horrible horrible thing to have to say but Eridan probably deserves to know. "I... I really still don't. But, but it's not because I can't have feelings for more than one person in the same quadrant. It's... it's because I really, really, _really_ hate to share."

 

It is the hugest fuckin struggle to keep from breaking into tears right now; Eridan's fins are flattened low to the sides of his face beneath Karkat's trembling hands and his eyes are just welling. He won't blink. He'll swallow until the thick lump of his bloodpusher moves out of the way so he can say all that's in it.

And he clings to Karkat, trying to show him instead of tell him how damn much he's worth. There's not a single upright soul as precious to Eridan as Karkat is, not even Fef, though she comes close. Besides... if Karkat's a worthless shitstain, what does that make Eridan? Karkat, who was fuckin instrumental in saving the whole goddamn universe and everything ever, and who's a better troll than Eridan will ever be? Royal as his blood is, Eridan might as well be mud beneath Karkat's shoes. Or if Karkat's adamant, they could just be worthless together. That'd be okay maybe.

But all Kar keeps saying... it's making it sound like he doesn't want the 'together' part. He doesn't _want_ to be poly-lovey. Here it fuckin comes, the let-down. Easy as Kar's likely to try and make it, it already hurts. But. There's still a sliver of hope left, hope that maybe if he can explain himself there might still be a chance Kar could change his mind.

Eridan swallows thickly. Time to make words, voicechords don't fail him now. "Kar." Fuck. He sounds broken.

At least a fuckin whisper will suffice, being right up against Karkat's hear duct like he is. He clears his throat and tries again, the sour tang of blood on his lips. "Kar, I... I don't wwanna share either. I knoww you lovve Ter, though, an I don't mean to be breakin that. Especially since it's somethin you'vve wwanted since forevver."

God, if he could have had Fef... That wasn't to be, but Eridan understands how much it's got to mean to Karkat to have the love of his life want him that way too. If he could have Kar all to himself--there's another thing that's never going to happen. But that could be okay, if he could have Kar sometimes... way fuckin better than not at all, and being alone the rest of his miserable life. If he could just hold Kar like this, love and be loved. That's all he fuckin wants.

Eridan takes a shuddering breath (fuckin stupid gills, if they'd just quit trying to _help_ it wouldn't be so hard to get enough air). "If it means anythin at all... you wwouldn't havve to share me. You can havve all a my flushed affections. I don't wwant anyone else."

Eridan kisses the delicate cartilage of Karkat's ear shell, awkward and fumblingly. "Remember wwhen wwe wwere foolin around before an I said you could havve all a me?" His voice has no fuckin right to be so wavery right now; this shit is important. He swallows again. "I meant it. Then an also noww. An..." So fuckin unfair. "I don't see that changin evver."

He doesn't know how to show more clearly the fact that he'll never even consider anyone else in his flushed quadrant. If Karkat's there, he'll be well and truly taken. It hurts so bad how much he wants that.

 

You try to hide it, but you can't altogether suppress the flinch you make upon Eridan vowing that you wouldn't need to share. That is... wow, exactly what you want to hear, and it makes you hungry for more of that, that idolatry you guess you'd call it, but. But. It's so unfair. Too unfair, for Eridan. That's the very thing you were worried about, right? It's _why_ you are such a worthless shitstain, after all. Does he not get it? Is he not appreciating how horrible you are for wanting something so unfair? Or... more likely... is he appreciating it, but is so desperate and lonely that he's willing to accept such a bad and unfair bargain, such unequal and unjust terms, because he thinks that's all he could ever get?

God it fucking hurts. No, Eridan. It is so _not_ all you could ever get, you want to tell him, yell at him maybe. Shout it into his thick numbskull until he actually _gets_ it, until he finally understands. Time heals all fucking wounds (well, except for the fatal kind, but what with god tiers all around, that really isn't anyone's problem anymore unless they decide to be dumbshit heroes or even dumbershit assholes and then fucking good riddance). 

(Except then this reminds you of Dumbshit Egbert the most Mortal Immortal Ever and you just want to spontaneously teleport over to where he is for a second, right the fuck now, and _strangle_ him just for kicks since if he dies before you are ready for him to die- which, spoiler, will be NEVER- you will never motherfucking forgive him and will take pains to go daily to his grave and fucking SPIT on it and maybe probably also roll around and sob for like hours and hours on end as you yell at his ghost for being such a galactically thick moron and then his ghost fucking _slimes_ you in some dumb human-ghost prank and you go ahead hate him just a little bit more, right now, seeing glorious pitch-black spades all over the fucking place.) (Wow mental tangent). 

ANYTHEFUCK WAY. Time, you remind yourself angrily inside your moronical thinkpan, heals all wounds. And in Eridan's case, you do know that if he moved closer to everyone, keeping on his little personal journey of self-improvement and showing through time to everyone how he's changed... well, eventually that would buy him confidence. Eventually, that would make him friends again. Eventually, he would get something of a life back, and it would probably be a really great life, and you can already think of several people he'd be compatible with in the redrom department and just because you two didn't get into it earlier when doing his quadrants doesn't mean you haven't given his prospects in that realm any fucking thoughts, either. You know who he could work with, over time. 

Maybe Aradia, for instance: the two of them don't even know each other at all, but in his case that's really kind of to his favor, and in her own way being dead and then a dead robot for so long ended up distancing her just as hardcore from everyone, and she's lonely too, you know it, and she has her regrets as well, and is trying to put together her own life. Just like Eridan. It could work: you can see it in your motherfucking redrom oracles, your fucking crabfold vision where you can read all the fucking romantic futures of everyone like a fucking asshole. Hell, if you weren't such a worthless shitstain of a troll you would have mentioned it earlier, instead of hoarding this information to yourself like a dickwad because... well, because you don't actually want to help Eridan in his redrom quadrant. 

If Eridan is on the verge of tears, well, you're on the verge of an apoplectic meltdown, since Eridan _just does not see_ how horrible you are and how it really has nothing to do with him at all, it's just Your Issues, and you can't really clarify to any greater degree because you know that if you try, it will just make Eridan feel worse, but more importantly, you don't even _want_ to, because... 

Because...

Because you kind of _do_ want to monopolize Eridan's feelings, at least in this one quadrant. 

Cautiously... very, very cautiously... you bump around against his face until you find his lips again, and kiss them, and when you finally do speak again you're speaking right at them, like, right _into_ him, and you just ache all over, so hard, since it's horrible how eagerly you mentally gobbled up every one of Eridan's words, how he wants to give himself to you without setting any conditions or terms, without looking to the future, three sheets to the fucking wind in terms of flushed intoxication with your own very worthless troll self. He doesn't get it. And you don't know that you want to help him get it. But you have some obligations, nonetheless. 

"Uh... yeah," you say, very very low. You touch his tongue with your tongue, his lips are parted, this is far too easy to do, just a little flicker, just a little touch of want. "You have no idea, do you." More touching with your tongue, under the upper row of his perfect, sharp, adorable little fangs, and then down over the lip that he abused with those fangs, licking into his mouth and onto his lips and soothing everything, a little. You hope. "I like that, you know. I like what you said and I... I like that you want that... but. Isn't it... doesn't it... you have to _know_ how unfair that is, for me to want that. Even if... even if you're okay with that." You take a deep breath, breathing the used air of his exhalations, which feels fitting. His expired air tastes vaguely of the sea, at least in your stupid imagination. "Except, and this is how awful I am, just fucking pay attention and listen: except I kind of don't care, you see? I'm... kind of okay with that too. And I just don't know bad of a problem that is and you can't know either. So."

 

For a long moment, Eridan just tries to absorb everything Karkat just said. It's hard, cause Kar's being so contrary even while he's caressing Eridan's mouth with his own so soothingly. What is it he wants Eridan to say? Does he want him to agree about how awful he's being? It's not that Eridan can't see it, but fat fuckin chance. He breathes in the sweet, warm spice all Karkat's own, gazing into Karkat's eyes through fogged-up specs.

"So wwhat? Am I supposed to be upset that you're okay wwith me lovvin only you, Kar?" His bloodpusher's beating fit to burst. That _has_ to mean there's hope yet, right? If Kar's okay with it, even if he thinks he's a terrible troll for feeling that way?

He kisses Karkat's lips with hesitance and more than a little eagerness too. What the hell is a 'please please be my matesprit for fuckin evver' kiss supposed to be like? How come he never got to learn that one, huh? "The most unfair thing my thinkpan is conjurin up right noww is the thought a blowwin it all wwithout bein givven the chance to evven make a go of it wwith you. I just... wwant you. If that means I gotta share then I'll fuckin do that an still consider myself the luckiest."

'Unfair' is having it dangled right here in front of him, close enough to taste, to breathe, to feel so warmly pressed to him, and have it slip away. The biggest 'problem' he can see is that Karkat doesn't care that he'd be making Eridan share and is okay with feeling that way--but _isn't_ okay with agreeing to be his matesprit. What's holding him back? What fuckin flaw is it keeping him from making his decision? Eridan would wish on every fuckin star in the galaxy to know, so he could have a hope of fixing it.

"Please, Kar. If... if we do this an I feel like I'm needin somethin more from you, you can be upright fuckin sure I'll let you knoww about it. Is that wwhat you're wworried about?" Eridan intends to do his best to tone down the attention-seeking and all the ovverwwrought emotional bullshit, but it's not like he can flip a switch and turn it all off. Nobody's going to be taken advantage of here, if that's what Karkat's concerned about.

 

"No... yes. Well..." Stupid Eridan asking irrelevant questions and bringing unrelated nonsense into this: figures. Totally figures. You refrain from following either of the two main paths such nonsense would usually mandate according to the overriding behavioral flowcharts hardcoded into your thinkpan, which would be either to mock him in thinly-veiled contempt and bemoan your fate, or commence yelling immediately and then (also) to bemoan your fate. You like those behavioral options usually, since they not only represent the path of least resistance in almost all circumstances, they also typify the sort of fucking amazing coding that you _could_ be writing if it so happened that computer code followed intuitive commands the same way the subconscious mind does, instead of being a purposefully opaque faux-magic language created to confer undeserved elitism upon whoever has the intestinal fortitude and sheer innate dickbaggery to master it. Read: Sollux A22wiipe Captor. 

Anyway, you're going to go ahead and forge a fucking amazing and non-buggy non-viral third path, alchemizing a fucking innovative new approach to your usual behavioral patterns that falls under the freshly minted subheader of: Eridan-Oriented Behavior. Where were you again?

Oh yes. Here: "I'm not worried about you 'speaking up for yourself' or 'communicating needs' or 'getting to the point,' or any of that usual hoofbeast shit," you say, trying to tone down the scorn that just sort of naturally emanates from your voice whenever you deploy the dreaded "contempt enclosures," which are of course usually one of your main tools of rhetorical warfare, your fucking elocutionary specialty and all that... here, under the influence of Eridan-Oriented Behaviors, you find your usual scornfulness taking on an unusual tinge of sincerity and urgency, because as it so happens your contempt in this instance is entirely self-directed, and Eridan needs to fucking know that. "But..." Temporary derailment into sloppy makeout territory commences, with you assailing Eridan with a fucking flurry of small yearning, desperate kisses here and there and all over his fucking douchesexy face. "Um..."

Your hands, which up until just now were busy with softly caressing Eridan's cheeks, are now finally on a wandering downward path, smoothing over the back of Eridan's soft seabeast flannels. Eventually you end up just hugging him. Or rather, hugging him back, since Eridan is still clinging to you like you're some kind of gross shitstain of a motherfucking lifeline, and it just feels right and necessary and like you got to. Before you can allow your kisses to go into undeserved and unnegotiated free-agency territory, you back off with the kisses, and lean your head down onto Eridan's shoulder instead, and close your eyes. "Yeah." 

What were you saying? Focus, Vantas. Crisply, you continue. "Anyway, what if one day it seems unfair to you that I've got two matesprits and you only have one? This one shitstain loser, who is me?" Here it is, your core argument, presented with zero scorn and zero yelling: a motherfucking miracle, if you do say so yourself. "I _still_ wouldn't want to share."

 

Oh god, Kar is so fuckin stupid. It's kind of a huge relief though, that _this_ is what his fuss is about right now, because it's something Eridan can definitely address. And easily too. He buries his face into Karkat's soft tufty hair, careful of his adorable nubby horns. It feels like his entire thoracic cavity is full to bursting. Fuckin Kar; why can't he see how much he is to Eridan? 

"Good. I don't wwant to be shared anywway." Eridan's voice is rough and damply wavery still, but there's warmth in it too. "My heart's not evven half as big as yours is, you knoww. I only got room for lovvin one matesprit. An out a all the people in existence I wwant you most of all, Kar."

For fuckin serious, though--what part of 'I don't wwant anyone else' does Karkat not get? Eridan figures he'll just have to spell out what that means for him... He holds Karkat tight, pressing adoring kisses into his hair. This is going to be kind of a difficult confession, but it should make it clear how much he cares about Kar. 

When he speaks it's a whisper, his breath ruffles the soft tufty waves. "Did you evver get to wwonderin wwhy outta evveryone I nevver did hit on you hard?"

Eridan takes a breath. Here's something he's never said aloud to another soul. It's not even something he even really consciously understood til all too fuckin recently. "It's... it's cause you _mattered_ more. I used to tell myself it was cause you were just too good a bro, but. Kar, really it wwas cause I wwas scared. I'm still fuckin scared. I could get rejected a thousand times by anybody else an it hurts but it's not the end a the wworld. But you..."

God damn it, he can feel his eyes prickling again. No fuckin emotional theatrics. There's a damn lot Eridan's scared of here, but he can't make this about him. Not now. He swallows thickly and clears his throat, taking comfort in Kar's arms around him. "You're the one I wwant to be wwith, Kar. The only one in my flushed quadrant. I'm not settlin for anythin less here, an wworthless as you think you are, you are upright precious to me. Evveryone else pales in comparison, evven Fef- an yeah, that fuckin scares me too, if you wwant the honest truth. That's held true this long an it's not gonna change. I'm-. I'm not as fuckin fickle as I knoww I'vve come off as in the past, Kar. Fuck. I'm sorry. I'm so fuckin sorry for that. You gotta believve me."

Okay. Eridan's done talking; he gets the sense maybe he's just making it worse trying so hard to convince Karkat he'll be more than happy to stay with Kar and only Kar for the rest of his life, and hell, beyond if dream bubbles are still a thing ghosts get to go to after dying. The fuckin Ampora curse--trying too bloody hard. He sighs and rests his head gently on Karkat's.

Wait. One more thing. "Kar," Eridan says, his voice small and hesitant. "I'm... I'm wway more afraid a you decidin I'm too much to deal wwith an breakin it off, noww or later on, than I am a me evver wwantin more than just you or thinkin it's not fair you got twwo matesprits. You could havve ten fuckin matesprits and I wwouldn't care, so long as one a them's me."

 

 _I could get rejected a thousand times by anybody else an it hurts but it's not the end a the wworld_. 

That is his exact quote and those words shake you tremendously and you feel like even though Eridan didn't intend it, nothing could be a bigger or more stinging indictment of how much of a slurrysucking grubfucking gross musclebeast-hoofmunching worthless asshole you actually are, since there are other fucking words you can remember, and can quote off the fucking top of your head at any moment, because these were- no, are- your words, and you'll carry them with you until you hit the dirt and fall face-fucking-first into your own inevitable fucking future grave: 

_Hey asshole. Consider our "pact" over. You are dead to me_.

It's... it's all your fault, really, isn't it? It always was, don't you think? You were supposed to go see him on his fucking stupid angel murderhunt, visiting him in his stupid stark fucking hopeless angel fucking murderland. You _promised_. And because of your fucking stupidass memo, not only did you break your fucking promise, you pretty much found the most hurtful way possible to fucking _broadcast_ your fucking broken promise ahead of time, letting this dumb Eridan here in on the fact that you were not only going to break your past promises to him, you were _also_ going to go and make a pact with him in the future, but it was going to be a fucking meaningless pact from the start, and... and... that you were never, ever going to be there for him when he needed you. 

That it was never, ever going to happen. That you were just that worthless and faithless and full of fucking shit, from the very start.

Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Right now, you really, really, _really_ want to just fucking let loose, fucking _howl_ in your well-deserved misery and wallow fucking forever in the manifold undulating fractally disintegrating and ever-unfolding manifestations of your lifelong ~ath virus curse. It would... in a gross, horrible way, be actually pretty relieving, to let it all out and sob your fucking brain out. But you're currently under the directive of new Eridan-oriented behavioral programming, and those directives silently and coldly tell you that sometimes, it actually is not all about you, and that you can't really afford the luxury of wallowing in your gross guilt-fueled fucking feelings right now. Since, well... Eridan said a lot of really nice and precious flushed things to you, right there. He deserves better than a fucking creepy out-of-the-blue mutant meltdown and that means you're not allowed to be a worthless shitstain of a useless troll for the fucking moment. You're just not.

So what you do instead of melting down is cling to him after he's done speaking, and for a long time you don't say anything, just kind of shaking a little (in a badass hardcore way, you're sure) as all those frigid splashes of eternal self-loathing slap your thinkpan like the heightened wake from a particularly vicious sea cruiser. But of course, like any good battleship's wake, eventually those waves grow smaller and smaller in intensity... leaving you to focus on other things. 

The warm way Eridan is holding you, for instance: kissing into your hair, leaning into you and resting his head, speaking small... you do like it. You do like him. And you missed him. You've been missing him hard, for a long, long time, it seems.

"If..." When you finally open your mouth again to speak, your voice cracks and breaks worse than fucking Eridan's, thick and full of mucus deep in your throat. "If we become matesprits, you know I could become your worse nightmare, right? Never mind breaking things off... I'd never break things off. But. But I might make you fucking miserable, trying to make things work. Ask... ask Terezi. You'll see. I'm really... totally..." You sniffle. You swallow. It hurts. "... a total fucking nookwhiff, that way."

 

It takes every single ounce of restraint Eridan has not to break down begging at this point. Everything Karkat says is just fueling Eridan's hope that maybe he'll say yes. He's not saying no yet. That fuckin 'if'. If they become matesprits. If that happens, Eridan's worst nightmare would be Karkat ending it, but he just said he wouldn't do that. If. His next worst nightmare would be Karkat deciding it's still not what he wants and calling it off now. Nowhere in there is 'trying to make things work' figuring into Eridan's worst nightmares.

"Kar," Eridan whispers, cheek mashed to Karkat's head, rubbing his back in what he hopes is a soothing way. "That's okay. I probably shouldn't be sayin this, but I'd be wway more fuckin miserable wwithout you than wwith tryin to make it wwork _wwith_ you."

He takes a shuddering breath, staring at the ceiling so his well of violet tears won't fall. "I knoww... I knoww I'vve been total shit at makin things wwork relationship-wwise before. But I don't wwant--." Fuck, he has to stop and swallow down the horrible lump in his throat. "I don't wwant to push anyone else awway. Kar. I wwant to make it wwork too, evven if it's hard. If you're wwillin to help me avvoid that... then please. Please, Kar."

There. Two 'pleases'. That's not too much, is it? That's not begging, that's just... kind of pleading. Right? 

If this happens, and god does Eridan hope it will, he's going to try and make sure he doesn't make the same mistakes he did with Fef and Vvris. He'll be open. He'll talk with Kar about how he feels and do everything a good matesprit it supposed to. He'll try to stay interesting and not bore him. He'll listen. And hard as it might be, he won't give up on it. Since when has he ever been one to give up? Fuckin nevver. Eridan Ampora fights for what he wants. Kar should know that.

"Please... I promise to respect your decision, but I just. If you do wwant to try, I wwant wwhatevver you givve me. Misery an all."

 

You find yourself almost beginning to nod in response to that, but stop yourself just in time. Shit. Nodding right now could all too easily be misconstrued as you deciding to take the plunge, once and for all. Ending all this emotional drama and all these emotional theatrics with a word. Just one single word. Yes. You could end everything, all of it, with a 'yes.'

Of course, that begs the fucking question: why don't you? It's not like you're not experiencing first-fucking-hand how physically compatible you are... how mutually attracted you both are, after all. It pains you to conceptualize transcendent romantic feelings down to base troll urges like this, but its a fucking reality nonetheless and you can't help but mentally acknowledge it, no matter how much of a troll Judas in relation to troll Will Smith in his iconic roll as troll Hitch that it makes you feel. Whatever. That's not important. 

Anyway, you are limited in how you much you can move and respond to Eridan's tugging, encircling hug and stiflingly sweet backrubs and little kisses and such... limited mostly because you don't want him to stop, and you don't want to pull away, and you don't want to turn this moment into something that it's not, or anything. 

Shit. You _could_ totally say yes right now. There's nothing stopping you. Nothing practical, anyway. But now you're sort of feeling the weight of the thing that's holding you back, and that is your own lack of faith in yourself. Your ingrained shame about having let him down once before. Your inbuilt fear that you'll fucking do it again, and worse somehow, and that he'll become even more of an alienated recluse, so unsure in himself and his own appeal that he might never talk to or see anyone ever again. And that would be not only entirely your own fault, it would be a doom you couldn't survive dooming him to... you'd just fucking keel over and die, you just know it. You can't let him down again like that, or in any way whatsoever. You can't. You just can't.

Basically, you kind of wish you could stay forever in this moment, which is not a "yes," but which is also not a "no," either. It's hard, discouraging, knowing that you can't. Really hard. And really discouraging. But you kind of also know deep down that you never, ever, ever would have come here, if deep down and subconsciously you knew that there was any possibility that the answer could be anything other than a yes. You couldn't have put him through that. And you think you probably always deep-down and also subconsciously knew that you mattered more, that you mattered _different_ , to Eridan, just like how he said. And that in some long-term, frustrating, impossible way, he mattered different to you as well. 

So you find yourself nodding anyway, after having let your body tense all the way up and then suddenly relax, as if in giving up. Yes. It's probably, almost certainly, a yes. But you're not ready to say it just yet.

Instead, you plant a hesitating kiss of your own, awkwardly, right on Eridan's stupid shoulder. "If..." you say again, not so choked up this time, a little clearer, "... if it happens, if it does happen... how, uh. How would you want it to work?" You swallow. Your voice is only a _little_ clearer. "Eridan? Eridan. How would you want it to work... for you?"

 

Eridan takes a breath and tries to let it out long and slow, though his nerves won't let him. It comes out all in a great gust, ruffling Karkat's hair. So fuckin many 'ifs'. He's trying to let himself be reassured by how relaxed Kar's become in his arms all of a sudden, by the way he nodded and that sweet, awkward kiss on his shoulder... but those goddamn 'ifs'. 

Okay. Kar asked a question. Is it okay that he doesn't have an answer ready for that one right off the tip of his tongue? Is he supposed to know what to say? What if... what if his answer is _wrong_? What if the way Eridan wants a matespritship between them to work isn't how Karkat wants it? Or what if it conflicts with the way he and Terezi have it? All these fuckin 'ifs' are twisting his guts into a nauseous knot of apprehension. Mixed with the stupid fluttery butterfly-like sensation of hope floating around in there, it's enough to make him glad they haven't eaten yet.

"I, um..." Eridan says falteringly, worrying at his lip anew. "Can you givve me a sec to think on that, Kar? I don't... no one's evver asked me anythin like that before is all. All I got to go on are wwiggler relations, you knoww?" He gives a soft, brittle chuckle. "Wwith Vvris, wwe sort of just let it happen an didn't talk about wwhat wwe wwanted, an wwith Fef too. I didn't talk..."

Eridan finally squeezes his eyes shut, clearing them of the standing tears. He's rambling again. "Promise I wwon't hold out on you, Kar." Not now, not even for all the ominous 'what ifs' swirling in his head. Not ever. "I just need a minute."

He takes another deep breath, trying to clear his head enough to think straight. Closing his eyes, Eridan stills himself and just holds on to Karkat, warm and solid. How does he want this to go, if it does? ... God, he doesn't know. How's he supposed to know how a poly-lovey situation should even work? All he wants is to have Kar some of the time. All to himself...

Eridan swallows. It's as good a place to start as any. "I wwant... if wwe can be matesprits... I wwant to havve you all to myself some nights. Just you an me, an no one else. Wwhen I'm livvin closer and all, I'd like to havve that maybe... once a wweek." 

Fuck. That's not asking too much, but it's not asking as much as he really wants either. Okay, if he thinks of this as sort of like his fantasy of how it would be with Kar if he could really have what he wanted, maybe it'll be easier to just say it without worrying about possible repercussions. "Scratch that, sevveral times a wweek. Maybe wwhen Ter's wwith Davve or somethin."

Yeah, that's better. The beginnings of a smile are tugging at the corners of Eridan's mouth as he thinks of curling up against Karkat in a recuperacoon together, waking to have him in his arms _several times_ a week. What else does he want? Something to hold him over while he's still here on his island all alone would be good...

"And til I'm movved, I'd wwant to havve convversations wwith you ovver Trollian or wwhatevver, evvery night. Just to knoww howw your night wwas, an... to help wwith missin you." Every night might be pushing his luck, but Kar asked how he'd want it to work. And after hearing nothing from him for so long, only to have this brief taste of having him close, Eridan just doesn't want to be forgotten again. If they were matesprits, he could send Kar hearts. Every fuckin night, just as a reminder of how much he loves him.

Hesitantly, he adds, "I kind of wwant somethin like that evven if you don't wwant to be my matesprit, Kar." The conversations, not the hearts. He'll have to keep those to himself if Kar says no.

"An if wwe get to be matesprits, you gotta be okay wwith me showwerin you in flushed affection all the time. I'll alloww compromises on other stuff, but that's un-negotiatable." That'd be like asking him to change who he upright fuckin is, and would therefore be impossible.

Eridan punctuates that with a kiss to Karkat's head. That's about all he can think of to say... All he can do now is hope he hasn't asked for too much. "Okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey you guys! SORRY ABOUT THE HUGE DELAY but html coding is hard (okay, annoying) and RL is even harder. But to make up for it you get two super-sized chapters posted at once… I hope that is sufficiently awesome to make up for my (Herongale's) flakiness. 
> 
> Anyway, despite all the delays, I am really really proud of these two parts, and I wanna thank [Poidkea](http://poidkea.tumblr.com) for giving me the right kind of encouragement to finally get all of the editing done so we could post this. Thanks!!!
> 
> And please go look at the end of chapter 8… I finally edited in some art that I commissioned for this story a while ago, done by [Bana-chan](http://banavalope.tumblr.com/). [The original can be seen here](http://banavalope.tumblr.com/post/53118644998/yeaaaahhhh-final-commission-doneee-for-the-ever-so) if you just wanna cut to the chase and commence reblogging immediately. :)


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